Rating:

Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

M/M

Fandom:

Heated Rivalry (TV)

Relationship:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov

Characters:

Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov, Svetlana Vetrova, Rose Landry

Additional Tags:

Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Rivals with Benefits, Rivals to Lovers, POV Alternating, Idiots in Love, Ilya Rozanov is Bad at Feelings, Ilya Rozanov is Trying His Best, Ilya Rozanov Needs A Hug, Shane Hollander Loves Ilya Rozanov, vegas but different, Rivals to Friends to Lovers, Jealous Ilya Rozanov, Shane Hollander & Rose Landry Friendship, Ilya Rozanov & Svetlana Vetrova Friendship, Episode: s01e02 Olympians (Heated Rivalry), Minor Shane Hollander/Original Male Character(s), POV Shane Hollander, POV Ilya Rozanov, Good Friend Rose Landry, Good Friend Svetlana Vetrova, Good Friend Ilya Rozanov, Good Friend Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov is Obsessed With Shane Hollander, Friends to Lovers, Everyone Loves Shane Hollander, Everyone Has a Crush on Shane Hollander

Language:

English

Stats:

Published: 2026-01-10 Completed: 2026-06-24 Words: 40,174 Chapters: 7/7

indulgence

Summary

This thing that they have—whatever the hell it is—it’s good. It’s easy. It feels like the only thing keeping Ilya afloat sometimes.

He can’t let it get to a place where it’s more than just a good, convenient fuck and some fun teasing in between. Even if sometimes, in brief moments of tenderness, it already feels like it’s more than that. Or at least like it’s something that can be, if they just let it.

But they don’t. They can’t.

Although sometimes, Ilya does find himself giving in to the urge to look at Shane just a little bit longer, to let his touch be just a little bit gentler, more reverent, than what it would be for something as casual as they claim this to be—albeit sparingly.

Sometimes, just for a moment, he lets himself indulge. He lets some of that affection bleed out of him because he feels like he’ll implode if he doesn’t.

But he always catches himself before it can linger.

***

or

where six months of ghosting is shane’s final straw and he cuts contact with ilya after vegas, tired of the wall that just keeps getting higher each time he tries to chip away at it

so ilya is forced to reckon with his feelings much sooner

Chapter 1: just for a moment

Chapter Notes

“What the fuck do you want from me, Rozanov?”

Ilya supposes it’s a valid question. He has not replied to a single text from Shane since the Olympics, too embroiled in his own shit to find it in him to respond to a simple you doing okay? text.

Especially not when it’s from the one person he thinks can actually coax it out of him—everything he’s been keeping buried deep inside.

It’s just too much. Shane Hollander is entirely too much, with his big brown eyes and beautiful freckles, always asking Ilya if he’s okay and having the nerve to seem like he actually cares to know.

Each time he asks, Ilya finds himself—just for a second, before always deciding against it—wanting to be honest for once and tell him, No, Hollander. I am not okay. Everything is shit.

But if he does, he feels like the floodgates will open and it won’t be long until everything’s just spilling out of him. My father is asshole. And he is sick. My brother is asshole. My mother is dead. Only good person in my family, dead. There is no warmth waiting for me back home. And I want you more than I am supposed to. And I don’t know what the fuck to do with all that.

And he just can’t have that. It’s too… vulnerable. This thing that they have—whatever the hell it is—it’s good. It’s easy. It feels like the only thing keeping him afloat sometimes. 

He can’t let it get to a place where it’s more than just a good, convenient fuck and some fun teasing in between. Even if sometimes, in brief moments of tenderness, it already feels like it’s more than that. Or at least like it’s something that can be, if they just let it.

But they don’t. They can’t.

Although sometimes, Ilya does find himself giving in to the urge to look at Shane just a little bit longer, to let his touch be just a little bit gentler, more reverent, than what it would be for something as casual as they claim this to be—albeit sparingly. Just a little bit, he always tells himself.

Sometimes, just for a moment, he lets himself indulge. He lets some of that affection bleed out of him because he feels like he’ll implode if he doesn’t.

But he always catches himself before it can linger.

He lets Shane kiss him on the forehead like it means something, sits in that warm feeling just for a moment, before he pulls away. He holds Shane tighter to his chest just for a little bit after sex, just to see what it would feel like if he were allowed to do it all night, before he gets up to leave.

And he always does. He always pulls away; he always gets up to leave. Always one foot out the door, always gone before the morning.

He lets himself get close just for a moment, just to know what it’s like. But he always takes a step back right after and makes sure the distance is back between them before the closeness can really take hold.

Sometimes, he even entertains the idea of letting the tenderness last for more than just a moment. When he’s feeling really indulgent, he thinks about what it would be like to actually stay the night and wake up next to Shane for once. Is he grumpy in the morning? Would he like it if Ilya made him coffee and cooked him breakfast? Probably not, stupid bird diet and all.

A part of him really wants to know. But he can’t. They can’t.

So he lets those moments just be moments, lets go before they can even have a chance of being more, and lives off of them until the next time he can have one again—siphoning off all the moments’ warmth until he can let himself indulge again.

Because it can’t be more than that. Because then, it means something; it becomes something he can lose. So he simply doesn’t let it.

Instead, he keeps pretending like this is nothing to him. Like it doesn’t kill him to keep Shane at a distance when he would live under his skin if he could.

“I want you to suck my dick,” he says instead. He should apologize, probably. Shane seems pissed. But he doesn’t want to. Because then he would have to tell him why he was too fucked up to reply to a single text in the first place. Then, Shane will see what’s really in his heart and might not like it, might not want to deal with all that baggage. Ilya doesn’t want to find out.

So instead, he deflects. He retreats to the more carnal of his desires because it feels like safe territory in comparison to the deeper want that he actually feels whenever he’s around Shane.

“Fuck you. You are unbelievable.”

Again, fair. Looking at Shane in this dimly lit bathroom, Ilya sees the hurt concealed behind his anger. He’s upset because he hasn’t heard from the guy in six months. And now Ilya just saunters in without a care in the world, smiling expectantly like he actually doesn’t doubt that Shane will be on his knees soon enough.

Because he doesn’t. It’s just what they do. They text sometimes, they hook up even less frequently, and they go on with their lives. What difference does six months of silence make?

“Come on, Hollander. You know you want to,” Ilya goads, the smirk not having left his face since he followed Shane into the bathroom.

“Fuck off,” Shane spits out as he makes a move to leave.

But Ilya is on him. He takes a step forward and holds Shane’s jaw in his hand—firm and commanding, just like Ilya knows he likes.

He sees Shane’s pupils dilate as he has his delicate little face in his grasp. Ah, there it is. The desire, peeking through his anger. Ilya can work with this.

“Look, Hollander. You win MVP tonight, you can go back to my hotel room and I will blow you, fuck you, whatever you want.” Ilya sees the desire flicker in Shane’s eyes with each word he says and thinks, gotcha.

But then he sees Shane’s expression shift, the fire in his eyes gone just as quick as it came, being replaced by something more like resolve. Resolve to do what? Ilya doesn’t know yet.

“No,” he responds impassively as he takes Ilya’s wrist and loosens his grip on his jaw before letting their arms fall to the side. All the fight in him from earlier seems to have dissipated, overtaken by want only for a brief moment before it settled into this, whatever this is. 

“No?” He raises an eyebrow and tilts his head, confused but still playful, still of the belief that he can get Shane in his bed tonight with just a little more teasing.

“We’re not having sex tonight.”

“Ah, you want to save it for next season? Make it sweeter with the wait?” Ilya continues to tease, eyes unashamedly wandering down to Shane’s mouth, hand coming up to touch again before it’s abruptly stopped in its tracks by Shane.

“No, Rozanov. I—” He takes a deep breath, like whatever words are about to come out of his mouth he has to physically claw out of himself. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“What?” Ilya panics for a second before he manages to school his expression to something more neutral. The furrow in his brows remains though, as he looks all over Shane’s face for an explanation.

Surely this is just the anger talking, right? Shane’s just too pissed off to have sex right now, but that’s fine. Ilya can charm him again soon enough… right? That has to be it.

“This,” Shane says as he gestures between them. “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t pretend like… Those six months, Rozanov, I—I just wanted to know if you were okay, you know? With the Olympics and everything, and… I don’t know. Whatever else you have going on.”

Ilya did always think Shane probably knew on some level that he was dealing with something. He never told him of course, so he didn’t know what exactly. But it was probably evident enough in the way he always shut down Shane’s attempts at deeper conversation, flinching ever so slightly at any mention of his family before painting a stoic expression right back onto his face.

Maybe that’s why Shane has been patient with him, giving him grace even when he maybe didn’t deserve it. Because he held on to the belief that Ilya being closed off had more to do with whatever it was that he was dealing with internally, as opposed to Shane himself. So why now? Has his patience just run out?

“So to not hear from you for months… And right after we just—” Shane’s voice falters, and it shatters something within Ilya to hear him sound so pained. He wants to make it stop, wants to reach out and provide some sort of comfort. But he’s never really been good at that.

He doesn’t know what to do. He feels frozen in place, wanting so badly for the sadness in Shane’s eyes to go away, but knowing full well that he’s the reason it’s even there in the first place.

He turns the words over in his mind again. And right after we just—

Shit, so that’s why. No wonder his patience ran out. No wonder he was so pissed. Ilya didn’t even realize that his six months of silence came just after the first time they went beyond hotel room hookups and actually fucked, right in Shane’s bedroom. God, he must think Ilya’s such an asshole.

But Shane has to know that that has nothing to do with why he didn’t respond, right? He has to. But then again, how could he? Ilya hasn’t told him anything.

He thinks about apologizing, reassuring Shane that he didn’t just chase him for years so he could fuck him, only to ghost him for six months after. But he can’t find the words.

Seeing Shane like this, the part of him that always wants to give in to this beautiful man is dangerously close to taking over. But Ilya still finds it in himself to push it back down. 

“I just can’t keep doing this,” Shane continues as he clears his throat and quickly regains his composure. “You can’t just come back after all that and expect me to be right back on my knees when I… I was just worried, you know? And I thought that maybe we—”

“Hollander,” Ilya tries to interject. This conversation is going places he’s nowhere near ready for.

But Shane just sighs as he continues. “I keep trying to, you know… I don’t know. Get through to you, somehow. Beyond just this, whatever this is. I keep trying but you shut me down and push me away every time and I just—”

“Hollander.” He tries again, but Shane looks determined to either finally crack him or just walk away completely.

And Ilya knows; of course he knows. He knows that Shane’s been trying. He would always ask questions, always try to get to know Ilya better, always ask if he’s okay. But Ilya has never really given him anything beyond a perfunctory answer.

He’s just not ready for those floodgates to open. Will he ever be ready? He doesn’t know. But if he ever does open up to someone, he wants so badly for it to be Shane.

But he doesn’t think he even has the time to find out, because the look on Shane’s face tells Ilya that he’s had just about enough.

They’ve been doing this little dance for what, five years now? And no matter how sparse their interactions may have been in that time, there’s no denying the pull they both feel towards the other. They aren’t really anything, but maybe they could’ve been if Ilya didn’t take a step back every time Shane tried to take a step forward.

And Ilya wants. God, does he want. But he can’t. Not when he feels like such a fucking mess inside, and when the world around them feels like even more of a mess.

Maybe he was a fool to think they could keep going like this, with him giving just about enough to keep Shane around, but not giving him nearly as much as he deserves.

They stand in silence for a moment, like Shane is giving him one last chance to open up, one last chance to give him something, anything really at this point.

As the silence stretches and it becomes clear that Ilya has nothing to say, Shane finally walks away.

“Goodbye, Rozanov.”

“Hollander,” he calls out one more time to Shane’s retreating back, because he doesn’t know what the fuck else to say.

His arm reaches out before he can think about it, but Shane’s already out the door.

Six months of silence makes a world of difference, it turns out. 

Chapter End Notes

for the record i adore the bathroom scene as is. the way shane goes from anger to desire to fondness is everything. from what the fuck do you want from me you ghoster, to please please please suck my dick, to wow genetic. masterpiece.

but it also hurts me too much so i just wrote this as kind of like a balm to soothe my pain ok lol bye

Chapter 2: one last kiss

Chapter Summary

He doesn’t know if he can find the words to make Shane stay. Probably not, considering he hasn’t had time to process any of this, really.

But maybe he can show him. Maybe he can kiss Shane as softly as he used to only allow in those brief moments of indulgence. Maybe he can hold him closer, tighter, letting the moment linger long enough for it to stick this time.

Maybe he can infuse as much tenderness into each touch to make up for all the words he can’t say, and maybe Shane will be able to glean what’s on his mind from that.

Maybe he can bide his time this way, just to keep Shane a little longer, just until he’s ready to put all his cards on the table. It’s the only way he knows how.

Chapter Notes

Ilya goes through the rest of the awards night and the after party in a daze. He’s sitting by the bar, the buzz of his colleagues chattering around him fading into background noise as his thoughts thrum much louder.

Shane has told him no before. It’s partly why their first fuck got delayed for so long in the first place, post-snowstorm. And that was always fine. But it’s never sounded like this. It’s never held so much weight; it’s never had so much… finality to it. I can’t do this anymore is a world away from just We’re not fucking tonight.

And Ilya doesn’t know what to do if he meant it for good this time.

It feels a little ridiculous to him how much the thought of losing Shane unsettles him. Because it’s not like Shane’s really even his to lose.

So what would he actually be losing? Some banter on the ice? Flirty texts here and there? A good fuck on the rare night that they’re in the same city?

He can get that literally anywhere at any time without so much as lifting a finger. But the thing is, he knows it’s not the same.

As much as he doesn’t want to admit it to himself, let alone to Shane, he’s always felt drawn to him in a way that he’s never felt with anyone else—not before Shane, and certainly not since he met Shane.

Ever since he first tasted those lips in some dingy hotel room… No, before that.

It was when he first saw him smile so openly as they were struggling to finish up that stupid campaign shoot because they were having a fucking giggle fit on the ice. Not a PR smile, or a polite smile—but a genuine, warm, open smile. Perhaps even a chuckle or two. He felt so disarmed seeing Shane like that, when up until that point he thought he was always so composed and proper, and honestly a little uptight.

No, it was definitely even before that. He distinctly remembers being the one to float the idea of that joint shoot in the first place, since he was already curious about the golden boy of hockey at the time.

Maybe it was when they shared a water bottle at the gym after the draft, and he physically could not tear his gaze away from the way Shane’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, the way sweat trickled down his perfect skin, and the way he was panting, catching his breath. Yeah, Ilya has nothing appropriate to say about what that image did to him.

No, no. If he’s being truly honest with himself, he’s felt this pull ever since that cold day in Regina, when he was just minding his business, lighting a cigarette. And this polite, pretty Canadian boy told him that he wasn’t supposed to be smoking there. 

It’s easy to file away as just simple attraction, and maybe it did start out that way. But attraction quickly became curiosity, curiosity became desire, desire became yearning, and it just simmered and grew until it all got away from him before he could even put a name to it—turning into this amalgamation of want and need and longing for something that fucking terrifies him.

So really what he would be losing is all of that, before he can even make sense of any of it, let alone actually do something about it.

As he’s sitting by the bar lost in these thoughts, he watches Shane from across the room looking just as out of it as he feels. He wonders if he’s just as torn up about all of this, if it fucking kills him the way it kills Ilya. The possibility that it does provides him at least a little bit of comfort.

But he can’t just sit here and do nothing. He can’t just wallow in this feeling. He can’t feasibly address it head-on either though, so he does the only thing he knows how to instead.

He takes another drink and texts Shane his room number, just in case he didn’t mean what he said earlier. He couldn’t have, right? This is just another one of their games. All their arguing, it’s pretty much foreplay, right? Surely Shane still wants him.

He sees the man take his phone out of his pocket and put it back just as quickly without a second glance, before returning to whatever boring conversation he’s probably having with Scott Hunter.

Ilya’s jaw ticks at the feeling of being so blatantly ignored.

I’ll leave door unlocked, he texts again. Shane doesn’t even take his phone out this time.

It makes Ilya feel like a piece of gum stuck on his shoe. He feels the bile rise in his throat and keeps typing, still adamant that he can win whatever game Shane’s playing.

Lily

come on, hollander

it’s good room

beautiful view

big windows, as tall as ceiling

whole city can watch as i push you up against glass

Ilya downs his drink as he watches Shane finally pull out his phone. Thankfully, five consecutive buzzes was enough to get his attention again.

He sees Shane subtly scan the room before his gaze finally lands on Ilya. He feels like the entire room disappears when their eyes lock. All the voices fade into the background, and Ilya feels like they’re the only two people in the room, maybe in the world, as he waits with bated breath for what Shane will do next.

Will he nod his assent? Will he tilt his head towards the door so they can get out of there? Will he simply look away and continue ignoring Ilya for the rest of the night?

He feels time slow down to a stop as he watches Shane just shake his head—one, two, three times, with something that looks almost like disdain in his eyes. And then he looks away and the rest of the room comes back into the foreground.

It can’t have been more than two seconds that Shane held his gaze and shook his head, effectively closing the door on them. But to Ilya, it felt like those two seconds would never end.

It’s at this moment that he realizes that maybe he can’t actually win this, because maybe Shane isn’t just playing some game. Maybe this isn’t just another one of their spats after all. Maybe he did mean what he said, and they’re ending before they could even really begin. And he can’t just let that happen.

The fear of losing whatever he has with Shane fully possesses him at this point and he starts typing again, frantically this time, his earlier denial morphing into full-blown panic. He has to do something—just get him in his room, even just get one foot in the door. He can’t let it end in a fizzle like this, or even end at all for that matter.

Lily

please?

i’ll make it up to you

hollander, please.

Far be it for him to beg, but he truly feels like if he lets Shane walk away tonight without getting to hold him in his arms, that he might never get the chance to again.

Ilya watches him read over the texts, clearly contemplating for what feels like forever. Time continues to stretch as he watches the conflict all over Shane’s face. People think he’s not that expressive, like a stoic little robot. But Ilya has studied his expressions enough—on television, from across the rink, underneath him in bed, carefully cataloguing each one—to be able to tell when it shifts even slightly, when other people can’t.

After what feels like hours to Ilya but in reality is probably just a few seconds, Shane finally starts typing back. Anticipation builds as Ilya glances between the three dots bouncing on his phone screen, and the man across the room making them dance.

Jane

fine. i’ll follow in 15 minutes.

Ilya practically jumps out of his stool and barely says goodbye to the acquaintances he passes. He doesn’t know what he’s going to do exactly once they’re up there, doesn’t know if he can find the words to make Shane stay. Probably not, considering he hasn’t had time to process any of this, really.

But maybe he can show him. Maybe he can kiss Shane as softly as he used to only allow in those brief moments of indulgence. Maybe he can hold him closer, tighter, letting the moment linger long enough for it to stick this time.

Maybe he can infuse as much tenderness into each touch to make up for all the words he can’t say, and maybe Shane will be able to glean what’s on his mind from that. 

Maybe he can bide his time this way, just to keep Shane a little longer, just until he’s ready to put all his cards on the table. It’s the only way he knows how.

He certainly hopes that it’s enough, as he leaves the door unlocked behind him and waits for the longest 15 minutes of his life to pass.

***

Shane doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing.

He should be downstairs, mingling, enjoying the night with his colleagues and not standing outside Ilya’s penthouse suite ready to give him yet another chance to walk all over his heart.

But he didn’t expect Ilya to say please, didn’t even know the word was in his lexicon, as proud and commanding as he portrays himself to be. So, perhaps a little foolishly, he thought the text meant that maybe he was finally willing to open up, even just a little bit.

It’s not like Shane’s asking for too much. He doesn’t need Ilya to suddenly be the poster boy for emotional vulnerability overnight. He knows that shit takes time.

And he knows—well, he doesn’t know, because Ilya hasn’t told him anything, but he suspects—that vulnerability doesn’t come easy for Ilya for reasons beyond his control.

So he understands. It’s why he’s never really pushed before tonight. But he’s taken baby steps, always trying to ask questions that can be light enough on the onset but can lead to more genuine conversation—always careful not to cross any boundaries, but holding out hope that one of these days, Ilya will let him in of his own accord.

And he likes to think that he’s been patient in this pursuit. At least, he’s always tried to be.

But to be on the other side of Ilya’s silence for six months, for his concern to be met with nothing but dismissal and hostility when all that he wanted was to know if Ilya was okay… Well, it made Shane feel like shit.

It was like a splash of cold water to the face. There he was, constantly smiling at his phone like an idiot, waiting for their next game against Boston like some giddy teenager, stupidly thinking Ilya might want him just as much as he does… only to get discarded after getting fucked for the first time.

It made him feel pathetic.

Still, he reached out—worried for Ilya after Russia lost and asked if he was okay, kept worrying even amidst the silence. Nothing.

And the first words back after all that silence? I want you to suck my dick.

Shane’s had enough. He can’t keep doing this to himself. All this time, he’s been trying to slowly chip away at the walls Ilya has carefully built around himself. But what Shane didn’t notice is that he’s also been chipping away at himself in the process.

He’s been hurting, and he’s been pretending otherwise—ignoring all the cold shoulders just so he can bask in the little moments of warmth he gets when Ilya allows it. Because it was better than nothing, and he would take what he could get.

But not anymore. He’s determined to walk into that room and get something, anything, to let him know that he’s wanted for more than just his body. He’s done feeling like he’s just another hookup. That was okay for a while; it was what they had first agreed upon after all. So really, it was okay… until it wasn’t.

It’s just not enough for him anymore. And he needs more. 

He doesn’t need to know Ilya’s entire life story right this second, or every little thing that keeps him up at night. He just needs a little peek behind the curtain, just a crumb to let him know that maybe one day, they can get to know each other beyond hockey strategies and what they like in bed.

He doesn’t even need Ilya to meet him where he’s at, if he’s not ready for that. He just needs him to be willing to take even a single step towards him, just one tiny fucking step, and Shane would be willing to wait for him to get there eventually.

I’ll make it up to you, Ilya had said. And Shane thought that maybe, just maybe, it would mean an apology at the very least. Maybe an explanation for the silence, or just any sort of indication that he’s willing to take that first step.

But as he takes a shaky breath and enters the suite, he quickly realizes that maybe he was wrong to think that.

Ilya is on him immediately, crowding him against the door and kissing him senseless like a man starved—devouring him for a second until he seems to think better of it and shifts gears, the kiss settling on a much gentler pace than either of them are used to.

Shane melts into the kiss for a moment because of course he does. Unfortunately, as has been proven time and time again, he’s a weak, weak man when it comes to Ilya Rozanov.

But he pulls away as soon as he remembers that this is not what he’s here for. He’s not here for sex, he’s here for a conversation.

Ilya just looks at him for a bit, with uncharacteristic softness in his eyes. It’s a little disarming, but Shane does his best to stand firm. He thinks he sees a little desperation in there too, maybe even a little fear. But he doesn’t put too much stock in it, because what does Ilya Rozanov have to fear?

The hand that was cradling his head so it wouldn’t hit the door moves so Ilya can swipe his thumb against his cheek. The touch is so gentle that Shane can almost feel hope blooming in his chest. Almost.

But then Ilya is chasing his lips again, and it takes every ounce of self control he has to turn his head and not keep letting him just take and take and take.

“Rozanov.” He’s a little embarrassed at how breathless he sounds from just a kiss. In his defense, it was one hell of a kiss.

He clears his throat and pries Ilya off of him so he can walk a little further into the center of the room. He needs to not have the man’s hands all over him so he can think straight.

He looks at Ilya expectantly, waiting to see what he has to say.

But no words come. Instead, Ilya’s walking over to him slowly, dropping to his knees and placing his hands on Shane’s hips, nuzzling his crotch like a believer worshipping a deity.

“Rozanov,” he chastises, but his hand finds its way into Ilya’s hair. Call it a little moment of indulgence of his own before he stands his ground again.

“I say I make it up to you, yes? Plow you into mattress until you forget last six months.” Ilya untucks Shane’s shirt so his hands can roam all over his torso, while leaving soft kisses on his belly.

Shane thinks the touch feels almost reverent, like Ilya’s saying with his hands and his mouth all the things he can’t say with actual words.

But the self-loathing he feels for being so pathetic to even be here in the first place is enough to snap him out of it. He doesn’t need touch. They’ve touched plenty. It’s not enough anymore. Shane needs more.

“Rozanov.” His voice is stern as he gently pulls Ilya off of him by the grip he has on his hair, unlatching the lips that were eagerly worshipping every inch of his skin.

“I didn’t come here to get… plowed. Jesus, when did you even learn that term. I came here to talk.”

“Mm, but mouth is good for so many other things. Much better than talking.” Ilya tries to dive back in, but the hand in his hair keeps him in place. 

“Rozanov, I’m serious. Get up.” He obliges, and Shane drops his hand, taking a step back to really look at Ilya. He looks… unsettled. He looks like there are a million thoughts racing around in his head, none of them particularly great. Shane wants so badly to be able to pluck even just one of those thoughts out and lay it out between them so they can finally take the first step towards having an adult conversation.

But he can’t. He can’t read Ilya’s mind, can’t force him to speak it either. So Shane needs him to be willing to offer that up himself. Just one step, Ilya. Please, he thinks.

“Well?” He asks, tone pleading but firm.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Hollander.” Ilya holds his gaze for a bit before it eventually drifts and he looks anywhere but Shane, seemingly disconcerted.

“I don’t know, something. Anything. I’ve said what I needed to say in the bathroom. You know where I stand.”

Ilya runs a hand through his face, clearly frustrated. Shane sees something within him that seemingly wants to claw its way out, but can’t because of his carefully crafted walls.

A part of him wants to reach out, hold Ilya in his arms and tell him he’s willing to wait around some more. Because he knows there’s something there. He can feel it. He can see the conflict in Ilya’s eyes, can see the struggle to keep it all in.

But Shane can’t keep holding on to all these assumptions he’s made about why Ilya keeps pushing him away. He can’t keep guessing, blindly hoping that one day those walls will come down.

He can’t keep waiting for something that might never come. It might destroy him in the process.

So instead, he walks away—for good this time.

“I should probably go then,” Shane says when the silence has stretched long enough. He starts walking towards the door but Ilya grabs his wrist as he passes, gentle but desperate. Like he’s afraid he might break him if he grips too tight, but is even more afraid to let him go.

“Hollander. Don’t.” Ilya’s voice falters, and it takes everything Shane has to not cave.

He turns back around and looks at Ilya one more time, really looks at what he’s walking away from. The sight of Ilya like this makes him feel bad for leaving, but he tries to remember that he’s given him enough chances to stop him.

He takes Ilya’s face in his hands and offers him a sad smile, a tear escaping despite his best efforts not to let it. “I hope you figure things out. For yourself. Whatever it is, I just want you to be okay.”

He kisses Ilya one last time, pouring everything he feels for the man into it, and hopefully leaving it all behind once their lips part—all his care, his want, his genuine hope that Ilya can work through whatever it is he’s struggling with. He wanted so badly to be there for him when he figured it out, but this’ll have to do. For his own sake.

Just one more kiss for the road that held all the words they never said.

“Goodbye, Ilya.”

***

Ilya should have known it wouldn’t be enough.

Because of course not. Shane made it clear that he needed communication. But foolishly, he hoped. He hoped that even if he couldn’t give him that, that Shane would still be able to read his mind somehow, and stay in spite of everything.

But of course he didn’t. Of course he left. He said he would. Ilya just didn’t want to believe it.

Why was it so fucking hard? Why couldn’t he just tell Shane how he feels? It would’ve been so easy to keep him from walking out that door, if he could just fucking communicate.

But the words always die on his tongue. And now Shane’s out of his life because of it.

He’s going to be thinking about that kiss for the rest of his life, wishing he had the emotional capacity to have stopped it from being their last.

Chapter End Notes

ilya b goin through the stages of grief losing shane like the denial was strong… little bit of anger when his texts were being ignored… bargaining… the depression boutta last a while strap in

i know i said i mostly wrote this to ease the pain i felt for shane in that bathroom scene (which i did) but i really do feel for ilya too. he’s going through so much. but that only provides an explanation for his actions, not an excuse. so i always wanted at least a little bit of groveling before he gets his man back

it’s just so sad how much ilya wants and wants and wants but doesn’t have the tools to be emotionally vulnerable quite yet… and like the only way he can convey how much he cares is through physical touch. so he tries, bless him. but it’s just not enough for shane anymore, especially not after being set aside for so long

and in canon it takes shane the tuna melt freakout and the rose of it all to confront that feeling really, and it’s such a well done turning point. it’s just that for me personally, vegas keeps gnawing at my brain bc i feel like getting ghosted for six months post first fuck and straight up being told they’re nothing is also devastating enough to be a turning point so i felt the need to explore it as such

 

anyway. some slight nods:
-the song bullseye by lucy dacus ft hozier (i wanted to be there the day you figured it all out. whoever is, i hope they're proud)

-that little tidbit about ilya being an expert in shane microexpressions i kinda grabbed from sakuatsu vibes (idk if anyone here likes sakuatsu but shoutout to skts my roots) like atsumu being fluent in kiyoomi expressions even beneath the mask. i just feel like ilya has spent so much time watching shane that he sees every little shift in those facial muscles

-this is such an old reference but does anybody remember that scene in himym where robin shook her head and to barney it felt like the second that would never end… yea that scene unwittingly entered my mind while i was writing and i couldn’t stop thinking about it even though i haven’t seen himym in years. so yea if you’re familiar with that scene. something to think about while shane is shaking his head at ilya from across the room and time stands still for ilya bc it feels like shane is closing the door on them

-also yes im turning we didn’t even kiss into what the actual fuck that was our last kiss fuck my life lmao

-and yes the first name has slipped out. first name slips are sooooo important to me (again, sakuatsu roots. whenever kiyoomi goes from miya to atsumu it’s always such a big moment.) so shane lets it slip here because it’s a moment of vulnerability, him genuinely wishing ilya well but needing to walk away for himself. i love how it’s used in the canon too like the tuna melt freak out is everythinggg to me

 

but yea anyway sorry for all the yapping. more sad ilya and perhaps even jealous ilya next chapter while he figures his shit out. shane also has stuff to figure out, but i want him to have a little fun while he does bc he deserves it :)

Chapter 3: going through the motions

Chapter Summary

There’s a plethora of reasons why Ilya couldn't talk to Shane about anything—be it his own reluctance to be vulnerable for fear of being hurt, or all the external implications that would arise if he acknowledges his feelings. There were so many things holding him back.

But if he really thinks about it, it always comes back to the fact that Shane would’ve understood. Their last conversation really showed Ilya that he was willing to listen. And that's precisely why he couldn't tell him.

Because deep down, he knew that Shane would be empathetic. He knew that he would try to find a way to make them work anyway—Russia, his family, and the hockey world aside. And maybe that’s the most painful part.

Because then, this thing between them would be real. Then, he would be Shane’s problem. He would be a burden to him. Something Shane had to plan around. Something to hide. A liability. Something that would cause him harm if shit hits the fan. Useless, once again, just like his father always told him.

Just one more person for him to inevitably disappoint, all because he made the mistake of loving them.

Chapter Notes

did not expect a bit of a tonal shift in the ilya pov for this chapter but i tried to get into his head and when i was reading and rereading i realized i ended up writing his thoughts in such a fucking somber tone so sorry about that lol it’s not that drastic (mainly just shorter and drier sentences lol) but it was enough for me to notice. hope it at least conveys how he really was just going through the motions in the months following the not-breakup. a shane-less ilya is a very somber ilya it turns out, and it made me so sad to be in that headspace so that’s why his pov reads like really dreary in this chapter lol sorry

but queen svetlana enters <3 if anyone can knock some sense into him it’s absolutely her. i love her sm

Ilya finds himself going through the motions because unfortunately, life keeps moving even when you get your heart ripped out of your chest in some penthouse suite in Las Vegas.

He goes home to Russia for the summer, which is always an ordeal in and of itself. But this time, he can’t even escape into his phone and shoot Jane a silly little text when he feels like he’s suffocating and needs a breath of fresh air.

He flies back to Boston gearing up for the next season, hoping he will be in a better headspace once he’s there. And he is—well, sort of. He’s better than he was in the summer, at least. But that’s not really saying much.

He pours everything he has into training, desperate for it to be enough to fill the Jane shaped hole in his phone. It’s decidedly not. He spooks his teammates a little bit with his intensity. A few weeks in, they tease him about why he’s suddenly working so damn hard.

He can be, how you say, lazy, his father’s words echo in his ear. He shakes the unbidden thoughts out of his head, annoyed at how much his father’s disappointment looms over his every waking moment. He knows his teammates didn’t mean anything by it, that it was just a throwaway comment meant to poke fun at their captain. But he hears his father’s voice anyway.

Your father is an asshole. You need to stop giving a fuck what he thinks, he remembers Svetlana telling him, a welcome distraction from the self-destructive thoughts. It’s thankfully enough to keep the self-loathing at bay. For now, at least. Ilya should give her a call.

He dismisses his team’s jeers by saying they’ll thank him later when they’re back-to-back champions. That seems to satisfy them, garnering some laughs and a few whoops. Everyone packs up to leave and they invite Ilya out to a bar to close out their grueling week of training.

He declines. He’s been doing that a lot lately.

“What’s the matter, Roz? You run out of women to fuck in Boston or something?” Marleau goads.

“Fuck off. Maybe I already have one waiting in my house. So no need to go to bar, yes?” He quips back and leaves with a wink as Marleau wolf whistles behind him.

There is no such woman waiting in his house. His evening plans consist solely of watching the documentary about Shane’s stupid gorgeous secluded cottage. He saw a tweet about it earlier in the day and bookmarked it for later. It’ll probably be boring as fuck, but it’s also the closest he’ll get to seeing Shane and hearing about his life. He can’t wait.

He finds himself with his hand down his pants as Shane does yoga by the lake on his big ass TV. He feels pathetic. He scrapes up every image he has of Shane in his mind—their last time, their first time, every kiss in between, every suggestive text Shane has reluctantly sent (he was always so bad at sexting, but Ilya liked it anyway), all the pretty noises he makes when Ilya’s inside him—and uses it to finish.

He wipes off his mess, but the longing remains.

He feels a little ridiculous, because realistically nothing about the last few months would’ve been all that different had Shane not ended their arrangement.

He still would’ve gone home for the summer, still would’ve flown back to Boston for the next season, and still would not have seen Shane until their next game against each other.

He feels the loss anyway.

More weeks pass in much of the same manner. And before he knows it, the season begins. He looks at their calendar and memorizes the dates for one team in particular, momentarily forgetting that there won’t be any room numbers gracing his inbox anymore.

He dreads their first game against Montreal, wondering what being in Shane’s vicinity again for the first time in months will do to him. But at the same time, he’s still excited to see him in the flesh instead of on his TV—wants to actually hear his voice instead of just trying to remember what it sounds like as he rereads their text thread for the hundredth time.

Shane doesn’t even look at him once. Not on the ice as Ilya’s boring holes into the man’s face through the visor of his helmet while they prepare for a face off, not even on the bench as they sit and wait separated by nothing but glass. Not a single glance.

Ilya contemplates body checking him just for a chance to get close for a moment, but the opportunity for a check that makes sense doesn’t arise. He thinks about doing it anyway, just for the hell of it, even if Shane doesn’t have the puck—penalty be damned. But he doesn’t. He doesn’t want a pointless penalty to make Shane hate him even more than he probably already does.

No, Shane doesn’t hate him, he has to remind himself. He specifically said he wishes him well, even. He may have been angry in the bathroom, but his final words were not of malice or hate. Ilya holds on to the sentiment and continues with the game.

They lose. Not spectacularly; it was close. 3-2. But he knows he could’ve done better. They won the cup just last year, after all. Maybe his father has been right about him all along.

The team sulks in the locker room afterwards and invites Ilya out to a bar to commiserate. He declines. Again. 

“Oh, you going to see your Montreal girl or something? She gonna make you feel better, Roz?” Marleau teases, waggling his eyebrows. He always gave Ilya shit for blushing whenever he was texting his Montreal girl. It was always a little annoying, but overall just playful and ultimately harmless. Ilya doesn’t think so anymore.

He slams his locker door shut. The sound startles his team, causing a rare silence in the locker room for a few seconds.

“There is no Montreal girl,” he spits out once everyone but Marleau is back to minding their own business.

“Jeez, relax Roz. I was just joshing,” Marleau says as he puts his hands up in surrender. “Did you break up or something?” 

“Whatever. I’m going back to hotel.”

The innocent but ill-timed reminder of Montreal Jane has him walking out of that room in a worse mood than he already was. He still checks his phone out of habit, and pretends not to be disappointed by the lack of gloating for having beaten them that night, followed by an inconspicuous string of numbers.

His teammates look a little concerned, but they leave him be. They probably won’t think much of his sour mood beyond this moment; they lost after all. But they will think him refusing to go out after a loss like that is a little strange. They’ve already been questioning his uncharacteristic lack of partying lately.

But he’s deflected it with sly comments whenever they brought it up, so they probably think he just found a girlfriend who won’t let him go out to bars or something. They don’t know that it can't be farther from the truth.

He should call Svetlana. She’s probably the only one who can get him out of this funk.

They do eventually meet up back in Boston once they’re out for the season. She sits on the couch with him as they watch Montreal win the cup with Shane at the helm. 

A swirl of emotions rushes through his mind. Above all else, he’s proud of Shane. If anyone deserves that fucking cup, it’s him—with his boundless talent and endless passion and rigorous training and strict (read: boring) lifestyle.

But at the same time, he longs to be in Shane’s vicinity as he basks in the greatest achievement of his life thus far. He wants to be able to celebrate with him afterwards, maybe offer to do whatever Shane wants in bed as a reward for winning the cup. And beyond that, he wants to be able to hold him after. Stay up all night talking about how fucking great it feels to hold the cup in their hands. Wake up the next morning and fuck some more.

Svetlana notices that he’s been in his head the entire night, because of course she does. No one knows Ilya better than her, which is also why she knows that trying to get him to just talk about it outright is pretty much a lost cause. So she opts for a different approach.

“You wanna go out tonight? My friends are in town, including that girl you hit it off with last time.”

“What girl?” Ilya, for the life of him, can’t fucking remember the last time he hit it off with anyone who wasn’t the captain of the Montreal Metros.

“You know, the one you said was really flexible. Come on, it’ll be fun.”

“I’m not in the mood, Svetlana.” Ilya checks his phone out of habit again. They always used to text after games, either congratulating the other for their win or goading them about their loss. But Shane has no reason to text him now.

Congratulations, he types out anyway. He pauses for a moment, wondering if Shane would even want to hear from him after all this time. He says fuck it and sends it. He wants Shane to at least know that he’s proud of him, if he can’t tell him anything else. Svetlana watches him warily as he stares daggers into his phone.

“Boo, you’re no fun,” she quips. “You’re so boring now, Ilya. What’s going on with you?” She goes for a softball question, keeping her tone light and teasing, but leaving the door open in case Ilya actually wants to talk about it.

He doesn’t, of course. So she goes to plan B—she leans in for a kiss. They’ve always found comfort in each other, whether physical or emotional. If Ilya doesn’t want to talk, then maybe he just wants to forget. She can help him do that much, at least.

Ilya melts into it for a moment, but quickly pulls away. It just doesn’t feel right. A weird feeling settles into his stomach, because kissing Svetlana has felt right his entire life. They may not be in love like that, but they’ve always loved each other. And they’ve always shown it. So what’s changed?

He recognizes that it’s probably the same reason he’s been declining all his team’s invitations to go out. Shane has been the only man he’s slept with since they met, but his reputation as a ladies man isn’t based on nothing. He used to have no problem fucking Shane when they’re in the same city, and then fucking some random woman when they’re not. No big deal.

But since Vegas, he has found himself unable to even look at anyone—man or not—without thinking about this slow fucking hockey player with beautiful freckles and a weak backhand.

And not for a lack of trying, either. He may have been declining all his teammates’ invitations to go out as of late. But it’s only because when he did go out with them when he first got back to Boston, he just stared at his fucking phone all night rereading old messages like an idiot. 

Women would come up to him and they would walk away disappointed because he couldn’t even spare them a second glance. Apparently, rehashing Shane’s poor attempts at sexting made him feel more than the prospect of actually sleeping with any of these beautiful women.

It was pathetic, really. So he just ditched the club scene altogether, because what was the fucking point if he was just going to mope around all night? He could do that at home.

“Is this about Jane?” Svetlana asks gently as they pull away, not wanting to spook him. He’s still spooked anyway, if the bewildered look in his eyes is any indication.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that. Relax. You’re not exactly subtle, you know. You’ve been texting Jane for years. I’m not blind.”

“What, are you jealous?” Ilya scoffs.

“Please. You know me better than that,” she remarks with a chuckle.

“Well?” She follows up expectantly after his lack of a response. Ilya never not wants her, so if he’s pulling away, then this must be serious. She’s determined to get to the bottom of it.

“It’s nothing.” Ilya shrugs, playing it off like he always does.

“It’s clearly not nothing. I’ve never seen you like this before—over a guy, no less. It is a guy, right?”

The look on Ilya’s face is almost comical. It scares him sometimes how well Svetlana knows him. But it also makes him feel seen in a way that he doesn’t feel with anyone else. So he figures, if he’s going to open up to anyone, who better than the one person who’s always been there no matter what?

He always has his guard up, always deflects when things get too real. He needs to—to protect himself. He’s learned that the hard way over the course of his life.

But keeping all of this to himself since Vegas has been hell. He thinks it might be time to take some of the load off his shoulders. And this might be the only real safe space he has to do that.

He’s safe with Svetlana; he knows that. There’s no real need to protect his feelings with her. She’s already seen him with his guard down, at least as much as someone as closed off as him can really be seen. And she’s always stayed. She might be the one person he hasn’t managed to drive away.

So what’s the harm in pulling back the curtain just a little bit more? She’s got him all figured out anyway, so might as well.

Saves him the trouble of having to translate his muddled thoughts into English, too. As if it isn’t hard enough being vulnerable as it is, try doing it in a second language.

“Fine,” he relents. “Yes, it’s Jane. Yes, Jane is a guy. I was sleeping with him sometimes but he wanted to stop because… I don’t know. Because I’m an asshole, I guess.”

Svetlana just looks at him for a moment, studying his face. She finds the answer right there, in the sad glimmer in his eyes.

“So you love him,” she concludes.

“What? No. Fuck no.” Ilya dismisses the thought, because he can’t admit to Svetlana what he can’t even admit to himself. He feels safe around her, sure, but an admission of love might be taking it a step too far. He wanted to pull back the curtain a little bit, not lay his entire fucking heart out bare on the table, bleeding all over the place.

“Please. You can sleep with anyone you want to. Why else would it bother you that this one guy suddenly doesn’t want to, if you weren’t in love with him?”

Svetlana lets him sit with that for a moment. And, well, she got him there. It really shouldn’t bother him. But it does. And he knows why. He may be in denial, but he’s not completely oblivious.

He must look like hell because Svetlana extends her arms out and he crawls into her embrace.

“Ilya—”

“I can’t, Svetlana. You know I can’t. With my father, with Russia, with hockey… I just can’t. It’s complicated.”

“I know.” She caresses his head, hand in his hair, knowing the gesture comforts him. He melts into the touch. “It’s just… I hate seeing you like this. Have you at least talked to him about it?”

Ilya thinks back to their last conversation. He’s replayed that night so many times in his head.

He could’ve talked to him about it. About all of it. Hell, Shane was literally asking him to. That night really showed Ilya that Shane was willing to listen. He would’ve understood. Despite all of his apprehensions, deep down, Ilya knows he would’ve. Because he’s kind. And because he cares.

There’s a plethora of reasons why he still couldn’t—be it his own reluctance to be vulnerable for fear of being hurt, or all the external implications that would arise if he acknowledges his feelings. There were so many things holding him back.

But if he really thinks about it, it always comes back to the fact that Shane would’ve understood. And that’s precisely why he couldn’t tell him.

Because deep down, he knew that Shane would be empathetic. He knew that he would try to find a way to make them work anyway—Russia, his family, and the hockey world aside. And maybe that’s the most painful part.

Because then, this thing between them would be real. Then, he would be Shane’s problem. He would be a burden to him. Something Shane had to plan around. Something to hide. A liability. Something that would cause him harm if shit hits the fan. Useless, once again, just like his father always told him.

Just one more person for him to inevitably disappoint, all because he made the mistake of loving them.

“What’s the point? We can’t be together. Why should I burden him with my feelings when we can’t even do anything about it?”

Svetlana feels her heart shatter at the admission. She just wants her friend to be happy, and yet they don’t live in a world where he can just do that.

“Look. It’s definitely not…ideal. But is being together in secret really that much worse than being miserable apart? At least then you can deal with it together, you know? At least you both know how you feel, instead of you just shouldering this all on your own.”

“He’s not miserable, though. He’s doing just fine.” Shane just won the cup, and spent the entire season not even sparing him a glance. Ilya thinks he’s clearly better off without him.

“How would you know? Did he tell you that?” Svetlana rightfully counters, thinking Ilya’s just assuming the worst. It’s what he’s programmed to do. 

“No. I haven’t talked to him in months.”

“Then stop guessing, dummy.” She lightly pinches his arm.

“Look, I’m not here to tell you what to do. I just wish you could let yourself want things sometimes, you know? Fuck your family. Fuck Russia. Fuck whatever anyone else has to say. What do you want?”

Well, if it’s just a question of want, then that’s fucking easy. If his family wasn’t the way that it was, if Russia wasn’t the way that it was, if the hockey world wouldn’t implode at the mere idea of him and Shane together, if he thought that his love wouldn’t hurt Shane…

“I want him, Svetlana. I want him so much it fucking kills me.”

But it’s not just a question of want, is it? It’s not that simple. He can’t just wish away all the things holding him back.

He feels his voice waver and can’t trust it to say anything else without him crumbling. So he just buries his face in her neck as she strokes his back. They stay like that for a while until he calms back down.

“You wanna tell me who it is?” Svetlana asks cheekily, letting a moment of levity in. They could use it after that talk.

“I can’t. He’s not out. It’d be a breach of his trust.”

“Okay. Will you at least tell me if he’s hot?”

Ilya laughs openly for what feels like the first time in a long time.

“Smoking, Svetlana.”

“Good. You deserve no less.”

Svetlana holds him until he falls asleep. Talking to her and letting it all out in the open felt like finally taking a breath after just suffocating for so long. For once, he feels like he’s going to be okay.

His phone buzzes as he drifts off.

Jane

Thank you, Ilya.

Chapter End Notes

chapter count went up sorry i can’t stop yapping. sad ilya took over me this chapter, so fun not boring shane will have to wait until next chapter :)

the actual canon timeline here remains largely unchanged except i will be moving up their reconciliation by a season bc if i spend two seasons in ilya’s somber headspace as he watches shane win the cup twice i will kms. in canon they’re fucking in that 2-year period so it’s all good, but since here shane broke things off after vegas, they’re not even talking. i can’t spend too long like this i will die

anyway. when i was thinking about all the things that could be holding him back from just talking to shane, i mean there’s so much right there’s his family and the russia of it all and their careers and then his own hang ups and inability to be vulnerable etc etc. but when i think about it some more, the scariest part (at least in this iteration of events) for him is that shane really wanted him to open up, so he knows that shane is willing to listen and will be understanding. and that’s scary to him bc that makes it real. and bc of his warped perspective of never being enough for his family he fears that if what he has with shane becomes real, he will also not be enough for shane or will burden him, even though they both want it. like in his head that’s one more person for him to disappoint if that makes sense

in relation i also kinda wanted to show in this chapter how pervasive his father’s words are in his daily life, how they come to him unwittingly when he’s just going about his day. he hears a harmless joke about working too hard, his father’s voice is in his head calling him lazy. he thinks about being a burden to shane, his father’s voice is in his head calling him useless. it’s really fucking sad out here

and yes him and svetlana’s conversation is in russian obviously. but i didn’t want to butcher a language i do not know by attempting to google translate my words so it’s just implied, sorryyyy. and his english is perfect in that scene because they’re speaking in russian so yea

lastly do they usually have lockers with doors ?? or just more like cubbies? i don’t know man in some of the scenes it looks like they just have cubbies but there are probably actual lockers in there somewhere idk whatever i just needed it for the dramatic effect of slamming the door sorry lmao

Chapter 4: the prospect of an unlikely friendship

Chapter Summary

Shane feels good about standing his ground. And he maintains that he made the right decision by walking away.

But that doesn't mean there isn't a persistent ache in his chest when he thinks about Ilya. It gets a little bit duller as time goes on, but it doesn't really disappear.

Walking away from Ilya was one of the more difficult things he’s ever had to do, and he’s not so sure he can do it a second time.

So Shane has to tread carefully. Because now, Ilya Rozanov is asking them to be… friends?

It’s such a strange proposition to get from him, when he’s spent the entire time they’ve known each other actively dodging any attempts Shane has made to deepen their connection beyond just sex.

In fact, pretty much the only way Shane feels like he’s gotten to know Ilya is through sex, and the small moments they get in between the sex. But sex was always at the center of their interactions, even as the physical desire bled into his emotional needs. And now Ilya just wants to get to know him without the sex?

Chapter Notes

a little song recommendation for my poor ilya in this fic is box in a heart by the maine. not a direct inspiration but it came to me while i was trying to get in ilya’s head. it’s basically how he felt last chapter before he finally let his feelings out in the open :) didn’t magically solve all his problems, but it was a step :) there’s better days ahead ilya it’s ok baby :)

out in the deep end
always on defense
you're scared to let
your own eyes see you cry
so what could it hurt
to breathe your breath
scream it out until nothing's left
no matter what
the voices said
there's better days ahead

there's a box in your heart
where you keep
your feelings hidden
it's been carefully
locked shut

Ilya feels much better after his talk with Svetlana. He feels… lighter.

Carrying the weight of his want for that entire year since Vegas—and perhaps even before that—was entirely too much for one person to bear.

The longing remains, obviously. But it at least doesn’t feel like it’s crushing his chest anymore, now that he’s let the longing breathe by letting it out of the little box locked in his heart.

Just being able to say it out loud and admit it to his best friend, and more importantly admit it to himself… It felt like the release that he needed. He no longer feels like he’s bursting at the seams, so tightly wound that he could snap at any given moment.

But when he imagines pouring his heart out in the same manner to Shane, well, he doesn’t think he’s quite there yet.

Like he told Svetlana, if it was just a question of want, then it’s easy to admit point blank that he wants Shane. Maybe he’s even a little bit in love with him.

If the rest of the world was out of the picture, he would be on the next flight out to Montreal, ready to beg Shane to take him back. He would tell him everything he’s been holding close to his chest, apologize for the way he acted because of it, and build something new with a foundation of trust and vulnerability.

But the fact remains that the world wouldn’t just be so kind as to take itself out of the picture. The fact remains that Russia is still his home. And as much as he loathes the way his family treats him, if something happens to them and he can’t fly home to be there because his queer identity as a public figure somehow gets out—he’ll never forgive himself. The fact remains that Shane loves hockey more than life itself, and Ilya doesn’t want to jeopardize Shane’s career by being something that can be used against him.

So no, he’s not flying to Canada to declare his undying love anytime soon.

Not only do the external consequences terrify him, but trying to win Shane back knowing that he’s not ready to give him what he needs and what he deserves because of said consequences also feels selfish. It wouldn’t be fair to him. It would feel half-baked, and Ilya wants to give him everything.

Maybe someday, he can. But right now, it just doesn’t feel quite possible. So he doesn’t really know what to do.

Because he misses Shane. Now that he’s admitted to himself just how much he cares about Shane, he wants him in his life—in whatever way he can have him.

That was already evident even back then, when all they had was a purely physical relationship and Ilya still would’ve done anything—well, anything short of actually being vulnerable, of course—to keep it. But even more so now that he’s no longer in denial about the extent of his feelings.

However, Shane made it clear that he can’t do a purely physical relationship anymore, and Ilya is simply not ready for something more. So if he can’t have him in that way, then that gets Ilya thinking…

Maybe they can be… friends? Would that be so odd?

Would it still be selfish to want to be close with him in that way, if he feels like it’s the only way he can be close to Shane at all, considering their circumstances?

Is it something they’re even allowed to be?

He turns the thought over in his head and he can admit that it does sound a little ridiculous. He doesn’t even know if he can say that they were friends when they were hooking up. Probably not. Plus, the public thinks they hate each other. And while that’s never really been true, it’s still strange to think of them as friends.

But Shane wanted to get to know him. Shane wanted him to open up. And friends do that too, right? Ilya can’t really say that he has a lot of those, but Svetlana has shown him over the course of their lives just how open and vulnerable a friendship can be, in all the best ways. 

So maybe this can be a way to give Shane what he wanted in the first place, without Ilya feeling like it could blow their whole life up if anyone found out.

It’ll still be strange, sure. But it’s not like Ilya’s going to ask them to hang out in public after games or anything. He just wants to be able to talk to him again, get to know him in a way that they never really got the chance to—even when they were at their closest. 

He’s not ready for a relationship because of the world around them, but he feels ready to at least be vulnerable with Shane even just platonically, if that’s all that is allowed of them at this point in time.

It’ll still be behind closed doors, but the assumed risk is much less terrifying to Ilya. Because if they got into a relationship and the world found out, it would be life-altering. But if they became friends and the world found out, at most they would probably just be a little weirded out.

But the world would get over it. They’re not rookies anymore. Surely, it wouldn’t be all that surprising for grown ass men to move beyond their perceived rivalry and become adults who are at the very least friendly.

So it's certainly possible. But now Ilya's question is, would he even be deserving of Shane’s friendship, after all this time? Considering everything he’s done, and more importantly, everything he’s failed to do for them?

A part of him doesn't believe so.

See, Ilya's perception of love has always been warped—what with his entire upbringing conditioning him to think that love is something that he has to earn. So looking at his history with Shane, he absolutely does not think he's earned his love, even platonically.

And that's a way of thinking he'll probably have to spend the rest of his life trying to unlearn.

But for now, both Shane and Svetlana's words serve as his anchor, tethering him to the ground so his mind doesn't drift away in the belief that he's unworthy of love. If Svetlana can hold him all night and assure him that he's allowed to want things, then maybe he can believe it. If Shane can worry about him and keep trying to get through to him despite Ilya constantly pushing him away, then maybe Shane saw something in him that was worth giving a fuck about.

So he tries to see himself through their eyes. If someone as beautiful and incredible as Svetlana believes that Ilya deserves happiness, then who is he to tell her she's wrong? If someone as kind and compassionate as Shane cared enough about Ilya to try to break down his walls, then who is he to throw away that care, regardless of whether or not he thinks he deserves it?

It's not a perfect fix, having to still derive that value externally before he can see it for himself. It doesn't fix his self-esteem issues by any means. But it certainly helps him be a little bit kinder to himself. It doesn't erase all his doubts, but it's sufficient to get him to a place where he feels secure enough to at least try.

So despite everything, he can believe that he is allowed to want Shane in his life. And he is allowed to ask for what he wants. Whether or not he will get it is entirely up to Shane, but he's allowed to ask. So he will.

Maybe they can be friends for now. And maybe one day, if the world could be so kind as to not be such a hostile place for them to even exist as they are, they can go from there and work up to be everything Ilya wants them to be. 

Maybe this can be a start.

Ilya hopes so, at least. Because he feels like he’ll die if he lets the distance between him and Shane just keep growing, but he’s not quite ready to risk it all when he doesn’t feel like they can even have a future.

Maybe someday, Ilya can make it up to Shane fully. He'll spend the rest of his life making it up to him if he has to. Maybe someday, he can be someone who's worthy of Shane's love. But for right now, he resolves to be the best damn friend Shane Hollander has ever seen.

So as he lands in Boston ready for the new season to start, brain fried from thinking about all of this shit on the flight over, he opens up the text thread that he’s basically memorized at this point.

Lily

Good luck this season, Shane.

I am not letting you win that cup a second time ;)

This should be okay, right? They can be friends… right?

***

Lily

Why would you beat us so hard on our own turf Hollander that is so rude

Jane

Skill issue

Lily

So mean to me

Jane

   😇

***

Lily

Your post game interviews are so boring

How much to get you to swear on TV?

Jane

There are kids watching!

Lily

Booooooo

Mr. PR

***

Lily

Saw your perfume commercial at the gym today

It was nice

Looking very Mr. Businessman in suit

Jane

Oh, uhh

Thanks I hate it

Lily

No, why? Is good

Almost makes me want to buy perfume even though I can’t smell it through the TV

Jane

Lol you’re so right actually

What even is the point of a perfume commercial

***

Lily

Good game

How was your day, Shane?

Shane reads the text three times before he can even start typing. It’s such a normal text, but coming from Ilya? No jokes, no barbs, no quips…

He is so fucked.

***

Shane doesn’t know why the hell Ilya’s been texting him all of a sudden.

Things have not been easy for him since he walked away from Ilya in Vegas. But it felt nice to be able to do something for himself for fucking once in his life. 

And he’s been… okay. For the most part.

He feels good about standing his ground. He knew he wanted more, so if he wasn’t going to get it, then there was no reason for him to stick around. He maintains that he made the right decision. Because if he let them just continue on like that, it would’ve destroyed him eventually. Instead, he got to walk away with his self-worth intact.

But that doesn’t mean there isn’t a persistent ache in his chest when he thinks about Ilya. It gets a little bit duller as time goes on, but it doesn’t really disappear. Simply knowing that you made the right call by up and leaving doesn’t suddenly wash away all of your desires.

It kind of helped that Ilya respected his wishes and didn’t try to contact him last season. But he felt the man’s eyes on him at every free moment whenever they had games, and that was almost just as difficult to resist. He had to make sure he wasn’t looking back at all because god knows what he would’ve done if they locked eyes for even a second too long. He might’ve crawled right back into Ilya’s arms and gotten his heart broken all over again.

Winning the cup for the first time certainly helped, though. That was amazing. He was a little surprised that he managed to channel all of his heartbreak into somehow attaining his lifelong goal, but he did it.

He’s almost as proud of himself for walking away from Ilya as he is about winning the cup. It certainly felt almost as difficult.

The cup still takes precedence, though. And he’s going into this season with a single-minded focus on doing it all again. A back-to-back win would be his dream, and he thinks he might just be able to do it. They’ve been doing really well this season so far.

Everything’s been going well in fact, except Ilya’s been texting him. And it’s been messing with his head.

It started with a simple Congratulations after he won the cup, which was unassuming enough. Completely harmless. Just a colleague expressing well wishes for a player they admired. So Shane replied, not really thinking too much of it, despite it being the first time he had heard from Ilya since Vegas.

But the further they got into the following season, the more frequent and… friendly—for lack of a better word—the texts became.

And Shane doesn’t know what the fuck to make of that. They hadn’t talked in a year, and even before that they never really talked this much. Especially not without the end goal of having sex.

But the messages have been pretty harmless so far, and Ilya never asks to meet up or even texts him anything suggestive or inappropriate. At all. Which is a far cry from pretty much all their text exchanges back when they were still involved.

The texts are even… nice, almost. Ilya still trash talks him before a game, calls him boring every chance he gets, but also asks him about his day. Listens to his mundane anecdotes about his dinners with the Pikes and only pretends to be a little annoyed by it. He’s even gotten a little old good morning once. They never really get into deeper territory, but it feels like a decent start to actually getting to know each other.

And it’s starting to terrify Shane.

It’s unnerving. Because if he’s not careful, he can so easily fall right back into Ilya’s web, erasing the year of gradual progress he’s made in terms of calming his feelings down. 

So as he sits in his apartment having another one of those casual text conversations with Ilya, he decides to straight up just ask him what his intentions are because he might go crazy overthinking it otherwise.

Lily

Good game, Shane.

But why would you fight with Scott Hunter of all people?

He is 100,000 years old.

No respect for your elders?

Jane

Thanks, I guess.

And he’s not that old!

Lily

He is. And almost as boring as you.

How was your night? You have fun with your team?

Jane

Okay, that’s it. Can I ask you a question?

Lily

This sounds serious.

Should I be scared?

Jane

It’s not.

Well, kind of.

I just… What are we doing here, Rozanov?

Lily

What do you mean?

Jane

It’s just that we’ve been texting a lot this season

Maybe more than we ever have.

You’ve even been… nice, which is unusual

When you’re not too busy calling me boring, that is.

So I guess I was just wondering why.

Lily

Ah. This does sound serious.

Should we talk about it in person?

Since I am flying out there for the game tomorrow anyway

Shane thinks about it for a moment before immediately dismissing the idea. He just doesn’t know if he can trust himself to be alone with Ilya and not want him. Walking away from him last year was one of the more difficult things he’s ever had to do, and he’s not so sure he can do it a second time.

Jane

I don’t think that’s a good idea.

Lily

Okay.

Doesn’t feel like a conversation we should have over text though.

Can I call?

Well, that’s new. Shane still isn’t sure if he can handle even just hearing Ilya’s voice, but a part of him misses it too—among other things. So against his better judgment, he lets himself indulge in that at least.

Jane

Sure.

He counts three rings before he picks up, not wanting to seem too eager. “Hello?”

“Hello, Shane.” They’ve called each other by their first names when texting, and he called him Ilya in person once, when he said goodbye last year.

But this is the first time he’s actually heard his first name in Ilya’s voice. And even through a tinny phone speaker, it makes his stomach flip. Maybe he was wrong about being strong enough to handle a simple phone call after all.

“So, you think me being nice is weird?” Ilya asks, the tone of his voice a little teasing. Shane appreciates the light atmosphere it creates, because it’ll make it easier for him to say what he needs to say later on.

“That’s not what I said, Ilya,” he replies with a chuckle. He wanted to test the name out on his tongue too, and he’s surprised at just how right it feels.

“Okay. What is the problem then?”

“I guess I just don’t understand why. You know, considering our… history.” I need to know why you’re reaching out now, when you never have before. I need to know you’re not just fucking with my head, Shane wants to articulate. But he can’t, so he just goes with that for now.

Ilya hums, seemingly understanding the implication. “What, are you not nice to people you fucked in the past, Hollander?”

His tone remains playful, and Shane holds on to the levity that’s keeping him from crawling into himself in embarrassment for where this conversation is going. He’s secretly grateful for Ilya’s ability to just acknowledge it directly like that without it feeling too serious.

“I’m not sure I talk to anyone I fucked in the past at all, actually,” he replies with an awkward chuckle. Not that there were many by any means, but he certainly didn’t keep in touch with Jessica, or the small handful of other women he was with before the Ilya Rozanov of it all started making him question everything.

“Hm. Is not that weird, Shane. You are overthinking things. I can tell. You probably have that little wrinkle on your forehead that you get when you are thinking too hard about something.”

Shane scoffs. “What wrinkle.”

“Relax. No one probably notices because it is so small. Is cute. Makes you look like confused puppy.”

“Fuck off,” he responds, with no bite to his voice. Why Ilya would even notice a small detail like that is beyond him, but it makes him feel things that he’s not at liberty to unpack at the moment.

So he just sighs and continues. “Look. I guess I just… don’t want to get the wrong idea, you know what I mean? I can’t go down that road again, Ilya. So I just wanted you to be clear about why you started reaching out in the first place.”

It’s the most honest and straightforward way he can ask without outright saying, I probably still have feelings for you, so please tell me all this texting is not just you trying to butter me up so you can fuck me with no strings again.

“I understand,” Ilya responds after taking in Shane’s words for a few seconds.

“And?”

“I just… want us to be friends,” Ilya declares, as if it’s a normal thing to want from your archrival that you used to fuck. It fries Shane’s brain a little.

“Friends?” He asks incredulously. Becoming friends with someone he used to sleep with is admittedly a foreign concept to him. Although he figures some people do it all the time, probably.

And when he thinks about being friends with Ilya specifically… It feels like such an uncomplicated thing for them to try to be, when all they’ve ever been is quite the opposite. Nothing he’s ever felt for Ilya has ever been uncomplicated.

So can he be friends with Ilya in the same way that he’s friends with, say, Hayden? Rivalry aside—since that’s never really done much to make him actually hate the guy as much as the public thinks he does—can he take all the complex things he feels for Ilya and turn it into something as simple as friendship?

“Yes, friends,” Ilya confirms nonchalantly. “What, is that weird?”

“No…? I mean, I guess. I don’t know.” He still doesn’t quite understand why Ilya would want to be friends with him in the first place. But… What's the harm in trying, really? It’s not uncommon for guys in the league to have friends in opposing teams. Granted, none that have been pitted against each other as much as he and Ilya have.

And when he really thinks about it, talking to Ilya this season without the constant pressure of trying to sneak around and fuck under the threat of being found out has been kind of nice. It’s also been slightly terrifying, sure—considering all of the feelings he’s been trying to bury—but otherwise, it’s been nice.

Ilya sighs. “Look, Shane. Is not a big deal, yes? I like talking to you.” Must have been difficult for Ilya to admit, Shane thinks. “I mean, is nice to hear you talk about Pike having his 18th child when I need help falling asleep.”

“Fuck you,” Shane interjects with a chuckle. Of course, he can’t ever let the conversation rest at a compliment. Of course, he needs to get a jab in there too. It’s annoying in the most endearing way possible. Maybe being friends with Ilya can just be fun for what it is, Shane concludes.

But he still needs to protect his heart. He’s not about to throw away over a year of progress by being careless with how he allows Ilya back into his life. So he wants to make sure that that’s really all there is to it.

“And that’s it, right? You just want to be friends who talk, and nothing else?” He asks, hoping he gets the message across.

“Yes.”

“You promise?”

“Yes, Hollander. I promise I am not trying to get into your pants.”

Shane snorts, secretly relieved that this conversation has not been as mortifying as he thought it would be, thanks to Ilya being able to pick up on what he’s asking while still being so casual about the whole thing. “Shut up. I was just making sure.”

“So? Friends?” Shane thinks he can hear the tinge of hope in Ilya’s voice. Despite the levity with which he has approached this, it does seem like Ilya’s sincere in his desire for them to be friends. So he supposes he can give it a try at least, despite how strange it all feels.

“Fine. Friends,” he relents.

The conversation drifts to more mundane things after that. By the time that Shane leaves the call, he feels better about the prospect of this actually working.

It’s surprisingly easy to talk to Ilya, he realizes. And when he thinks about it, it’s really not that different from Hayden calling him to catch up. They talk about hockey, they talk about their lives—normal friend stuff.

The only difference is that they used to fuck, and that Shane caught feelings that he’s spent the last year or so trying to get over—the success of which is debatable at best.

The thought leaves him feeling confused, because that is admittedly a pretty big difference. What business do Ilya Rozanov and Shane Hollander have being friends, really? Can they even be friends?

It’s such a strange proposition to get from Ilya who has spent the entire time they’ve known each other actively dodging any attempts Shane has made to deepen their connection beyond just sex.

In fact, pretty much the only way Shane feels like he’s gotten to know Ilya before all this is through sex, and the small moments they get in between the sex. But sex was always at the center of their interactions, even as the physical desire bled into his emotional needs. And now Ilya just wants to get to know him without the sex?

It's confusing, to say the least. So much of what they used to be was ambiguous and messy, and it didn't stop being that way just because he walked away from it.

If it were anyone else, Shane could've so easily taken all of their unresolved baggage and used it as a reason to shove Ilya's offer of friendship right back in his face.

He does no such thing, of course. Because that's not who he is. Shane has never been a spiteful person. Ilya may have hurt him, but Shane meant it when he wished him well in that penthouse suite in Vegas.

Instead of harboring resentment for the man who broke his heart, he just kept genuinely hoping that Ilya would figure things out for himself.

And by the looks of it, whatever the hell Ilya has done in their time apart seems to be working. He already seems a lot less closed off than the Ilya that Shane used to know. It doesn't erase any of their history, but it inspires enough confidence in Shane to move past it.

And who knows, maybe someday they can unpack all of that. But for now, Shane decides to take the olive branch for what it is, proud of all the progress Ilya has seemingly made on his own in terms of his willingness to be vulnerable, and eager to see where he goes from here.

He'll have to keep his own feelings in check of course, but ultimately he thinks being friends with Ilya Rozanov might not be so bad.

***

Lily

Saw your soda ad at the gym

Jane

God, don’t remind me.

I always look so uncomfortable in those

Maybe because I am

Lily

I thought it looked good

Jane

Shut up

Lily

You do not like doing commercials?

You mentioned it last time too

Jane

No they’re fine

Just a little annoying sometimes

Like why do I have to be soaking wet to advertise soda?

Lily

Well…

Jane

Nevermind.

Lily

You know you are allowed to say no sometimes, right?

Jane

I know.

But sometimes it’s easier to just keep saying yes, you know?

Make everyone happy

Lily

Sure.

But what about you?

Are you happy?

***

Lily

If I lose tonight it is only because I could not sleep last night

Do not get a big head about it

Jane

I’ll try. Won’t go easy on you though

Lily

Would not want you to.

Jane

You wanna talk about it?

Lily

Yes, actually. That would be nice.

Call?

Jane

👍🏼

***

Lily

Can’t believe you won the fucking cup again

Lucky bastard

Jane

You know, a good friend would just say congratulations.

Lily

I said I wanted to be friends, not that I would be a good one

Jane

😠

Lily

Congratulations, Shane.

You deserve it. Really

Jane

Thank you, Ilya.

I’m going for a three-peat, so good luck next season.

Lily

Not on my watch, Hollander.

***

Lily

Busy?

Jane

My mom has me doing a million brand deals in the off season.

And wants me to befriend a Swedish princess at Wimbledon or whatever? I don’t even know anymore

It’s stressing me out

Lily

Want to talk about it?

Jane

You know what, yeah.

Venting might help actually

Calling

***

Jane

I keep seeing videos of unlikely animals becoming friends

Lily

Oh? Like what animals

Jane

Like a tiger and a bear

Or a cow and a duck.

Kinda reminds me of us

Ilya can’t stop smiling at his damn phone. The idea of Shane thinking of them as an us, even platonically… The idea of Shane even thinking about him at all, really. It makes him so fucking happy he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

Lily

Oh yeah? What animals would we be, my unlikely friend Shane Hollander?

Jane

Hmmm I don’t know

Tiger and bear sounds about right actually

Lily

You think you are tiger? Cute

Mmm more like cat. Bear and little kitty cat

Jane

😾

***

Jane

How’s summer back home?

Lily

Hell.

I was thinking I cannot wait to get back home to Boston.

Don’t know when I started thinking of Boston as home, instead of here.

Jane

You wanna talk about it?

Lily

Calling

***

Ilya finds that he might like talking to Shane almost as much as he likes sleeping with him. It’s been a long while since they’ve done the latter, but Ilya remembers. He would’ve taken the time to catalogue every inch of Shane’s body if he knew that their last time would be their last time. But honestly, he remembers everything just the same.

Actually, maybe he likes talking to Shane just as much. Maybe even more, but that’s not something he’s keen to admit.

He was a little nervous for that first phone call, and tried to downplay it with humor as much as he could. He was scared that Shane would stop talking to him, and would walk away from the idea of friendship just like he walked away from their… little arrangement, if you will. So he tried to carry that conversation as casually as he could, while still assuring Shane that his intentions were good.

And he almost fucked it up by suggesting to meet up. He didn’t even mean to. A part of him just missed being in Shane’s vicinity, so it kind of just came out. Thankfully, he said no and they ended up just talking on the phone. Thinking back on it, it was probably for the best. Ilya isn’t sure how well he could’ve kept his longing at bay if they had to be in close proximity off the ice. It’s already hard enough as it is.

I can’t go down that road again, Shane had said. It reminded Ilya of how hurt he looked back in Vegas, and he cursed himself for ever causing pain to the man that he loved. Maybe one day, he can make it up to him. But for now, this is all that he can offer.

And surprisingly, after a little bit of convincing, Shane seemed amenable enough to the idea of being friends. Ilya will take it. He’ll take anything he can get.

A number of friendly phone calls have followed since that first one, and it’s always the highlight of Ilya’s week.

It feels like they’re making up for all the lost time they spent not getting to know each other in those earlier days. And he’s starting to think there’s not a single thing he can learn about Shane that would make him like the man any less.

There hasn’t really been anyone he could be this open to about almost everything, except for Svetlana. But even then, she always had to coax it out of Ilya because of how closed off he used to be.

Now, it feels liberating to have someone there who’s ready to listen whenever Ilya has something on his mind, and vice versa. It’s a sense of freedom to be vulnerable without fear of being judged that he’s never really felt before.

So it’s been nice. But it’s also made his feelings that much stronger. It’s making the longing unbearable when they have a game against each other and he has to look at this beautiful man across the ice for hours, knowing that he can’t have him in the way that he wants. Sometimes, as he’s slamming Shane into the boards, his mind drifts to the image of slamming him into the mattress instead. And it’s agonizing.

It’s a fantasy he can no longer indulge in outside of his head. He lost the right to have Shane in that way when he let him walk out that penthouse door nearly two years ago.

Part of him thinks it’s the biggest mistake he’s ever made in his life—a feeling greatly amplified on lonely nights when all he can think about is how Shane’s skin used to feel against his own, desperately grasping at the fading memory of his touch.

But part of him also thinks it’s useless to dwell on what could’ve been, because who the fuck knows what would’ve happened if he did end up keeping Shane from leaving? They could’ve lived happily ever after, sure. Fat chance, though. More likely than not, Ilya would’ve just fucked it up some other way, probably.

So as much as he regrets that night and how much it hurt Shane, he can’t really be too mad at where it’s led him. At the end of the day, he’s grateful that he managed to take all that pain and actually build a real connection with Shane that he never even thought possible.

The Ilya of two years ago might’ve known what it felt like to be inside Shane Hollander, but the Ilya of right now knows what Shane’s voice sounds like when it’s three in the fucking morning and he’s too anxious to fall asleep. There has to be a universe where he’s allowed to have both, but it’s certainly not this one. At least, not right now.

So yes, the longing remains. But he persists. Because again, he’d rather have Shane in his life in any way than not have him in it at all. He holds on to the hope that maybe one day, when the circumstances aren’t as bleak as they are, he can be allowed to have him in every way. But he needs to know they can even have a future first before he feels comfortable risking it all.

So for now, this’ll have to do.

Chapter End Notes

i made them try to be friends surprise !! but it’s not sustainable in the long run bc they’re too fkn in love lmao they're trying though. i just couldn’t spend any more time with lethargic ilya so i had to make them talk again :)

in the show if i look at ilya and divide all his many many hang ups between internal and external, i feel like he starts working through his internal stuff first, with tuna melt gate (which ends badly but it was an attempt lmao) and then when he starts to open up to shane in florida. but even after making significant steps internally like that, he’s still hesitant and doesn’t allow himself to fully go there until at least some of the external blockers are cleared (e.g. his father dying and scott coming out). like a big blocker was the importance of him having the option to go back to russia if he needed to, and that tie is only severed once his father dies and he cuts his brother off. same with the scott thing. not that those things fully solved the problems by any means, but they kind of showed ilya that there was a possibility for him and shane to have a future at least, and gave him the courage that he needed to full send it and go to the cottage where even more internal growth happens.

so in this version of events, he’s forced to work through those internal struggles much earlier because of shane walking away. and he does so by internalizing for a year before opening up to svetlana, and subsequently befriending shane. but he still can’t fully go there because the external factors remain, just like with show ilya. it’s like being open with svetlana gave him permission to feel what he feels, but the world still hasn’t given him permission to do what he wants to do about it. so he doesn’t.

but he wants shane in his life. now that he’s admitted that he cares, he doesn’t want to just treat him like a stranger. but they can’t be together bc of the external stuff, so he settles for trying to be friends. still behind closed doors, but innocent enough that it doesn’t make him fear for his fkn life lol like them being in a relationship would be life altering if it got leaked. but them being friends would just be weird if it got leaked so it’s less scary to ilya in a sense

so yea i hope that thought process makes sense :) emotionally, able to admit that he wants shane. realistically, still too terrified of the consequences to pursue it (understandably so). but he misses shane, and if he can’t have him in the physical sense bc that would be unfair to shane when he has made it clear that he can’t handle that, then he figures this is the only way to still have him in his life pretty much. he still struggles a lot with self worth too, like having to convince himself he's even worthy of shane's love in the first place. but that's really a lifelong struggle typa deal yk i feel like it's something he'll constantly have to battle. but for now, his friendship with shane and sveta is what's helping him combat it at least a little bit

and on shane's side, i really wanted him to stay strong and stand on business, but without ever losing his compassion. like he walked away in vegas for himself. went ahead and channeled that heartbreak into winning the fucking cup for himself. and when ilya comes to him with the prospect of friendship, he approaches it with caution because he doesn't just want to fall back into old patterns after all the work that he's put into himself. BUT once he determines that ilya seems sincere, he opens himself up to the possibility of friendship without holding any of their past against ilya. because he sees that ilya's trying. <3 shane is so kind like canonically so i just really wanted to give him a backbone in this fic but without ever losing that kind heart of his. you can put yourself first while still being kind baby <3 it's basically how he is in that florida hotel room scene that's like my favorite shane (kind and compassionate but still stands on business) but that scene is a conversation for another day :)

 

anyway! yay they're friends! there is something ilya forgot to consider though which is that when you’re friends with someone you’re in love with sometimes you will have to stand by and watch them be with other people…. and what will you do when that happens ilya rozanov 🙂‍↕️

Chapter 5: detour

Chapter Summary

Shane held on to the possibility that he wasn’t completely gay for so long because of just how askew that piece of him felt beside everything else in his life, at least in theory.

And there were already aspects of himself that he couldn’t control—things he knew would never actually fit, as the world likes to remind him.

It’s the type of “acceptance” that often feels flimsy at best, and definitely conditional on his skill. He’s so damn good at the game that he feels like maybe they chose to overlook something that would normally bother them in favor of taking advantage of his talent.

Would they feel the same about him being queer? Would they offer the same reluctant acceptance as long as he kept playing well? Or would that be where they draw the line?

Truthfully, Shane doesn’t want to find out. He feels enough pressure being in the position that he’s in, and he doesn’t want to rock the boat for the sake of his own self-discovery.

But selfishly, a part of him also yearns to understand himself in this way. Sometimes, he feels like he owes it to himself to figure it out. Maybe then, the hollow ache he feels in his chest will finally go away.

Chapter Notes

i love rose so much !! i pretty much skipped straight to them being friends here bc i just want her and shane to kiki. oh and i made her bi because i want to :) also shane asks her for specific advice so i didn’t want to make her straightsplain shane’s queer experience when i have my own queer experience in my back pocket that i can maybe channel through her lol also she can help shepherd our little baby gay into some healthy gay exploration <3

and sorry the chapter count went up i really do feel bad when i have to do that but listen i just love shane so so so much that if i spend time in his head im gonna end up yapping okay and i relate to him so much like for example the feeling of reluctant and conditional “acceptance” that sometimes comes with being an asian person in a white space resonates with me a lot soooo that’s not the main focus but all this to say that this is a very shane heavy chapter <3 but he and ilya have a nice long chat at the end o7

ok sorry bye!

Shane goes into the next season feeling on top of the world. He just won the cup for the second time in a row—a lifelong goal, twice over. He feels great with his team and the synergy that they’ve built. The league loves him. The fans adore him. He has countless sponsors lining up to get a piece of the golden boy of hockey. His parents are extremely proud of him.

And yet, there’s still something missing. Something feels… not quite right, and hasn’t for a very long time, if he’s being honest.

He’s learned a lot about himself in the eight or so years he’s spent in the position that he’s in, both professionally and just as a person. He’s grown a lot from the polite, meek boy that he was when he started.

But there’s an aspect of himself that he’s never fully grasped—an aspect that he’s questioned maybe his entire life, but even more so when he met one Ilya Rozanov all those years ago.

It’s the one facet of himself that he could never quite mold to perfectly meet everyone’s expectations of him, no matter how hard he tried. So much so that he’s starting to think that maybe it just can’t be helped. Or maybe… he just needs to try even harder?

It’s been on his mind even more than usual lately, particularly because of how close he and Ilya have gotten. Over the past year, they’ve shared nothing more than constant texts and Facetime calls, the occasional smile from across the rink like a secret message in a crowded room, and chirping on the ice that would actually sound more like fond banter if anyone was actually paying attention.

But he’s finding it increasingly difficult to attribute it to purely platonic feelings—the warmth that envelops him whenever he talks to Ilya, and the disappointment he feels that they’re not something more. And it’s starting to become a problem.

When he first walked away from Ilya in Vegas two years ago, it was difficult, sure. But realistically, all he was walking away from was a hookup that he cared a little too much about. A hookup that had the potential to be something else entirely, but as it stood was a purely physical relationship. Nothing more.

But now, Ilya is a friend. Now, their connection feels more real than it ever has, the limits imposed by its platonic (and secret) nature notwithstanding. If Shane lets his feelings spiral out of control and he finds himself having to walk away from him again because of it, he would be losing something so much more valuable than a hookup.

If walking away from Ilya then was difficult, walking away from Ilya now feels impossible. 

Walking away back then meant feeling the ghost of Ilya’s touch on lonely nights spent in his apartment, missing what they had and mourning what they could have been.

But walking away now would mean feeling his absence the moment Shane wakes up in the morning without a drooling, snoring Ilya on his phone screen because they both accidentally fell asleep on Facetime the night before. It would mean not having Ilya’s gruff 3AM voice talking him through whichever one of his anxieties cropped up for him that night, preventing him from getting any rest.

It’s the kind of loss that Shane would feel everywhere—not just in phantom touches, but something much more pervasive. Something that would permeate his every waking thought.

So he can’t let it get to that point. Ilya’s friendship has become too important to him for him to mess it up by letting his feelings get in the way again, especially when he barely understands them to begin with.

Because what does he even want from Ilya, really? He values his friendship and loves talking to him, but sometimes finds himself wanting more. It’s ironically pretty much the opposite of what they used to have. They went from all sex no talk, to nothing at all, to all talk no sex. And it seems that no matter what it is that they have exactly, it’s just never quite enough. Shane always finds himself wanting more.

But, is that because he’s in love with Ilya? Or is it just because he’s having a hard time reconciling the onslaught of desire that came with their prior entanglement, with the platonic warmth that they have now?

It’s like he tried so hard to compartmentalize, the first time Ilya came to him with the prospect of friendship. He put everything he used to feel for Ilya into a box, sealed it away in the back of his mind, and walked away from it when he walked out that penthouse door in Vegas. He had a year to distance himself from it, so he figured it would be fine.

Then, he put his newfound friendship with Ilya in a fresh box, trying to keep it away from the old box that has been festering in the corner—treating it like something brand new instead of reconciling it with everything that came before.

And that’s where the disconnect and the confusion is coming from. Because the reality is that you can’t just file those feelings away in the deepest recesses of your brain, hoping that they never see the light of day again. If you slice Shane’s head open, you won’t see separate boxes for friend Ilya and Ilya I used to fuck.

It’s more like one big confusing blob of all things Ilya Rozanov—everything Shane has ever felt for him all constantly battling to take up the most space in his brain. It’s an amalgamation of desire and warmth and lust and friendship and yearning and hurt and affection and pain and care and longing and a plethora of other things he can’t even name. And Shane doesn’t know what to do with all of that.

So is he in love with Ilya? Maybe. Possibly. There’s a non-zero chance that he is. But the truth is that he can’t say for certain.

Between struggling with coming to terms with his sexuality at all, and trying to make sense of the mess of things he feels for Ilya, he doesn’t even know where to fucking begin.

In fact, the sexuality stuff and the Ilya stuff feel so closely intertwined that he’s unsure if he can figure one of those things out without having to figure out both. It’s kind of a tall order when the only time he’s ever felt true to his desires at all is when he was with Ilya.

But he wants to try. Because he can’t mess with the delicate balance of their friendship if he’s not even sure what he would be risking it for. He needs to figure his shit out separately before he can even think about the Ilya of it all.

This is the state of mind he finds himself in when JJ gives him a call and invites him out to some random party with supposed celebrities in attendance.

Now ordinarily, it would be an easy skip for him. He would much rather be tucked up in bed reading a book, potentially expecting a call from Ilya who was probably going to talk his ear off about practice that day. He would pretend to be annoyed at his teammates’ antics, but Shane would hear the fondness in the captain’s voice anyway.

Ilya would request to switch the call to Facetime in the middle of his rambling, teasing him about his reading glasses the moment Shane clicks accept. Ah, Professor Hollander, nice to see you again, he would say. Shane would take them off with a huff, and Ilya would whine until he put them back on again.

The conversation would get warmer after that, Shane getting under the covers as Ilya shuffles into bed while asking him about his day—tone notably gentler and sweeter than it had been when he was teasing. They would talk and talk and talk, voices gradually getting quieter until one of them falls asleep. Or both of them. Waking up to the sound of snoring coming from a tinny phone speaker is a treat all on its own.

But Shane always secretly wishes that Ilya would fall asleep first, so he could have an excuse to look at his face without trying so fucking hard to hide the affection that’s always bubbling just beneath the surface. He’s almost certain it always bleeds through his eyes anyway, try as he might to conceal it. He would take off his glasses and end the call once he’s had his fill of unadulterated staring, trying not to wonder if Ilya does the same when Shane falls asleep first.

But that’s exactly the problem, isn’t it? Shane doesn’t like how dependent he’s become on those calls just to feel something. He’s a man of routine, and Ilya phone time has carved out a place in his day just as set in stone as his morning jogs or his bedtime reading or his pre-planned meals.

He can tell himself it’s platonic all he wants, but he’s never fallen asleep on a Facetime call with Hayden, has he? He tried to convince himself in the beginning that this was just going to be like any other friendship, but he should’ve known that trying to have separate Ilya boxes in his head was never going to work.

And of course, when he starts thinking about his feelings for Ilya, the overarching question of his sexuality inevitably permeates his thoughts. He’s definitely not straight, that much has been clear since the moment he let Ilya walk into room 1410.

But a part of Shane—a really big part of him, honestly—is still holding on to the fact that not straight doesn’t necessarily mean completely gay, either.

He’s holding out hope that just because none of the women he’s ever been with hold a candle to those hotel room trysts, doesn’t mean he’s not into women at all. He just hasn’t found the right one, he often says to placate himself.

It would definitely be easier if that was the case. If he just finds the right woman, then he wouldn’t have to untangle the jumbled mess of identity and sexuality in his head.

He wouldn’t have to explain anything to anyone. He wouldn’t have to feel like he’s hiding something, and actively lying, even though it would technically still be just a half-truth. That would be enough; the other half could just stay buried, if he never acted on it again.

He wouldn’t have to tell his mom that there’s yet another thing that’s different about her son in comparison to his peers. Yet another thing that she would have to worry about affecting his brand—as if he hasn’t heard the phrase first Asian-Canadian ambassador and other variations said about him countless times like a fucking slogan, often making him feel more tokenized rather than just plainly accepted.

It’s the type of acceptance that often feels flimsy at best, somewhat reluctant, and definitely conditional on his skill. He’s so damn good at the game that he feels like maybe they chose to overlook something that would normally bother them in favor of taking advantage of his talent. And it sometimes feels like they think he should keep his head down and just be grateful for it. Grateful for the opportunity, despite knowing damn well that he got to where he was based on his own merit. 

Would they feel the same about him being queer? Would they offer the same reluctant acceptance as long as he kept playing well? Or would that be where they draw the line?

Truthfully, Shane doesn’t want to find out. He feels enough pressure being in the position that he’s in, and he doesn’t want to rock the boat for the sake of his own self-discovery.

But selfishly, a part of him also yearns to understand himself in this way. Sometimes, this part of him that he’s kept buried feels so all-consuming that he thinks he owes it to himself to figure it out. Maybe then, the hollow ache he feels in his chest—an ache rooted in feeling so disconnected from a significant part of his identity—will finally go away.

But how can he even do that, when instead of doing something, anything at all, in an effort to understand his sexuality more, he’s cooped up in bed on a Friday night waiting by the phone for the guy who incidentally was also the last person he had sex with more than two whole fucking years ago?

Not that it’s the lack of sex that matters, per se. It’s more the fact that he wants to gain a better understanding of himself and his sexuality. And yet, he’s not doing anything about it because he’s, what, hung up on some guy he used to sleep with? The only guy he’s ever slept with, actually. And maybe that’s what needs to change, if he has any hope of ever understanding himself in this way.

Him and Ilya are friends. Nothing more. If he wants to figure himself out, he can’t look to Ilya. Not in this regard, at least. He has to go on this journey himself.

So instead of getting into bed and waiting for Ilya’s call, he gives in to JJ’s invitation.

He tries on three different outfits before he finds one that makes him feel the least uncomfortable in his own skin, puts his phone on silent, and heads to the party not knowing what doors it’ll end up opening for him in the long run.

It feels more like a detour at first, but it ends up being the path he was meant to be on all along. Shane learns why people always tell you to stop and smell the roses.

***

It’s Friday night and Ilya’s call goes straight to voicemail.

What started as phone calls that only came whenever one of them texted wanna talk about it?, has gradually transitioned to regular calls whenever they have the time. Usually after long days of training, sometimes after a particularly interesting game, on nights when they can’t fall asleep, or even on lazy days off as they watch the same movie while occasionally chirping in each other’s ear.

Ilya has become unreasonably glued to his phone. And he doesn’t think it’s the healthiest thing in the world, but he’s willing to bet anybody would act the exact same way if they had Shane Hollander on the other end of the line.

He feels a pang of disappointment that Shane doesn’t pick up, but ultimately it’s not a big deal. It’s just one phone call. He shoots a quick you busy? text before putting a random TV show on and sinking into his couch.

He doesn’t get a response until the day after, but he doesn’t really think much of it.

Jane

Sorry! Was out with JJ and his friends

Lily

Oh? Mr. Party Boy now? 😈

They decide to start a TV show together, and that’s that. The conversation moves on. Ilya doesn’t chirp further about the uncharacteristic night out, all too happy that he’s guaranteed multiple episodes’ worth of uninterrupted Shane phone time for the foreseeable future.

But it is on one unsuspecting day at the team gym that he realizes that maybe he should’ve thought a little more about that night or maybe asked Shane more questions. Because he’s greeted by his teammates showing him headlines of his good friend Shane Hollander spotted with Rose fucking Landry.

They’re all in awe at how one of their own managed to bag a famous movie star, whining about how lucky Shane is. Ilya defensively thinks that they’ve got it backwards—that anyone who gets even a modicum of Shane’s attention should be the one to count themselves lucky. Himself included. But the thought soon gets drowned out by a slew of emotions he’d rather not name.

Tabloids are unreliable… right? This doesn’t necessarily mean they’re dating, they’re just… leaving a restaurant holding hands. Right. Sure. Shane Hollander who has never been seen with anyone romantically in public, leaving a restaurant holding someone’s hand.

Huh.

In all his overthinking about what being friends with Shane was going to be like, not once did it even cross his mind that it might mean having to watch him be with someone else.

It sounds like such a silly thing to fail to consider, but Shane was always so straitlaced that Ilya just forgot to account for this possibility. How was he supposed to know that boring ol’ Shane Hollander—intended in the most affectionate way possible, by the way—of all people, was going to get himself a celebrity girlfriend?

Honestly, he feels a little fucking stupid now. What, did he think Shane was just going to stay single until the world became a better place and they could take their friendship to the next level? What a ridiculous fucking thing to hope for, in hindsight.

Fuck. Maybe being just friends with Shane is going to be much harder than he anticipated.

***

Rose comes into Shane’s life at a time when he didn’t even know he needed her, let alone what he needed her for, exactly. But it becomes clear soon enough.

They meet purely by chance on that rare Shane Hollander night out that JJ dragged him out to, and hit it off immediately. But they fizzle out unspectacularly when Rose quickly notices that their emotional connection doesn’t necessarily carry over to the physical side of things.

And Shane tried. He really fucking did. He liked Rose a lot. More than anyone he’s ever been with—with one obvious exception. And he figured that if he was ever going to be able to mold that piece of him to conform to the rest of his carefully sculpted life, he liked Rose enough to try with her.

If he could make this work, then maybe he didn’t even have to answer all the questions he had about his sexuality. He yearns to understand it, but maybe he doesn’t have to. If he could make this work, then that part of him could just stay locked away in all of the dingy hotel rooms that he and Ilya had shared, never to be unearthed again. It’s his best chance at the normalcy he so craved.

Also his last chance, as it turns out, because Rose sees through the veneer immediately.

It’s initially the most unnerving thing Shane has ever experienced—being confronted about your sexuality by your own damn girlfriend, when you’ve barely even confronted it yourself. But Rose does it in the gentlest way she could, and it really gives Shane the courage to be honest for once in his fucking life.

Rose is direct, but she’s kind about it. It’s the most tender wake up call he could’ve asked for. He doesn’t feel as cornered as he thought he would, if this moment ever came. And it makes him feel safe enough to finally admit what he’s suspected for a long time.

That Shane Hollander is gay.

He thinks he held on to the possibility that he wasn’t completely gay for so long because of just how askew that piece of him felt beside everything else in his life, at least in theory.

Shane Hollander—superstar hockey player, generational talent, role model, all around good guy, perfect son, golden boy. He felt like that part of him just didn’t fit. And he’s spent his entire life sculpting and molding everything else about him just so it’ll all fucking fit.

And there were already aspects of himself that he couldn’t control—things he knew would never actually fit, as the world likes to remind him. He just happens to be good enough at hockey that they overlook it for the most part, even tokenize it to an extent.

So he’s always felt like he was on shaky ground to begin with, that his perfectly sculpted life already took a lot of effort to hold together, even without this one piece that felt particularly out of place.

So he thought he could keep trying to make that one piece feel less askew. And Rose was his last attempt at it, before their disaster of a relationship confirmed what he’s been too scared to accept all along.

That it’s not something to fix. That it’s not something for him to sculpt or mold into something that it’s not, just so it’ll fit the perfect little image of Shane Hollander that everyone has—the image that he stubbornly held on to himself.

That it instead is something to accept and embrace as simply a part of who he is, just like everything else about him. That it’s something that he has no more control over than any of the other things that make him “different”.

And to have even just one person tell him it’s okay... To have someone give him permission to be himself—not that anyone should need permission, but for the longest time he felt like he didn’t have permission. So for it to just be handed to him like it’s something he should’ve never had to ask for in the first place?

It feels like a giant weight being lifted off his shoulders. It feels like letting out a breath he’s been holding for god knows how long.

And Rose instantly becomes his closest confidant, being the only person who explicitly knows this about him. It also helps that she tells him she’s actually bi, but really it’s her unbridled acceptance that gives Shane the comfort that he’s always craved.

The public still thinks they’re dating, and they haven’t really gone out of their way to deny any of it. Shane feels a little bad, not wanting to unintentionally be using Rose as a beard. But it’s not like they ever confirmed their relationship in the first place. People just assumed, and maybe they assumed correctly for a month or two. But beyond that, they just kept assuming.

In reality, all Rose and Shane are doing these days is hanging out every chance they get while she’s still shooting her movie in Montreal. Shane appreciates his time with her so much because she’s pretty much the only person he can really be himself with.

Well… One of two people, maybe.

It’s one such weekend when they’re hanging out at his apartment that he apologizes to her again for the accidental beard treatment she’s getting.

“Shane, I promise I don’t mind. We don’t owe them anything. We’ll only say something if you really want the rumors to stop. Or maybe if I meet someone nice and actually want to do something about it,” she says with a chuckle as she gets comfortable on his couch. “Otherwise, let ‘em keep guessing their little hearts out.”

“You sure?” Shane asks apprehensively as he settles in next to her, placing snacks and drinks on the coffee table, mostly for Rose. He’s not gonna touch anything other than the ginger ale, especially not since the season has started. He turns the TV on at a low volume, since they’re probably just going to talk over it anyway.

He always insists on putting one of her movies on when they hang out—partly to tease, mostly to support. She was initially mortified by the idea, but reluctantly agreed once Shane promised that they would at least stay away from the ones that she thought were really bad. They’re saving those ones for a rainy day, like if one of them is really upset and in dire need of cheering up via playing a drinking game over a truly horrid movie.

“Yes, baby. Honestly, it kinda keeps people off my back too. No one’s looking for dirt on me because everyone thinks I’m openly dating the perfect man,” she says, waggling her eyebrows. “So I’m good, I swear.”

Shane sighs. “Okay, if you’re sure. But tell me if you change your mind, okay? I’m not trying to hold you hostage or whatever. You’ve had enough kidnappings in your lifetime,” he quips, making Rose chuckle. She waves her hand to dismiss the idea.

“All good. Plus, our cover keeps you free to find a man on the DL too,” she teases. “Seeing anyone yet?”

“No!” Shane denies with a chuckle. “The season’s started, Rose. I barely have time to meet up with you, let alone find a man.”

Rose hums, narrowing her eyes at her friend. “For someone who doesn’t have a man, you sure are glued to your phone, though.”

“What? No I’m not,” he rebuts unconvincingly.

“Please. You’re not as good at hiding your blush as you think you are, Shane!”

Shane looks away, trying and failing to hide said blush.

“See, I knew it!” Rose giggles as she lightly pinches his cheek. It’s still a little unnerving for Shane to feel seen like this. But Rose seeing him was exactly what led him to this place where he feels more comfortable with himself, so he’s not complaining.

“Soooooo, tell me about the guy,” she urges as she props up her arm on the back of the couch, resting her chin on her hand, ready to listen.

“There is no guy,” Shane insists. But his phone dings on the coffee table, as if choosing that exact moment just to mock him. He instinctively perks up for one second before realizing that he’s proving her point by doing all that. He tries to school his expression, but it just makes Rose laugh. 

“Shane.” She tilts her head and the look on her face says, Hey, it’s me. You can tell me anything.

“Fine,” he relents. “Maybe there is a guy…” He remembers that Rose is literally the only person he can talk to about this. And considering how in his head he’s been about everything, maybe some girl talk with his ex-girlfriend turned friend about his ex-situationship turned friend would actually be helpful. Jesus, what has his love life come to.

Rose squeals. “Tell me everything!”

“I can’t, because there’s nothing to tell. We’re just… friends, I guess.” 

“Oh.” Rose’s eyebrows furrow and she visibly deflates as she sees the sad shift in Shane’s expression. “But you want to be more than that?”

“Maybe… I don’t know, actually.” Shane sighs as he proceeds to recount his entire story with Ilya—without naming him, of course. He tells the story as it is, meaning it’s gonna be obvious that it’s another player, but leaves out enough details as to not specifically pinpoint Ilya.

From meeting him when they were teenagers, to only getting glimpses of him once every six months (all very sparse but insanely magnetic), to those charged moments finally culminating in his first time with a man, to their infrequent dalliances ending with Shane walking away after being ignored for half a year, all the way to the friendship that followed.

It feels like a fucking emotional roller coaster, reliving their history like this. He’s never said any of this out loud before, and never even thought about the entirety of those eight years or so like this in one sitting. It’s… a lot.

He can feel himself smile as he recounts those early days, still vividly remembering the nervous excitement in his veins like it was yesterday. He hears Rose coo at small moments like them sharing a water bottle or their shoes touching at a press conference. He feels his heart shatter again as he talks about Vegas and the Olympics, and feels it stitch itself back up as he talks about their current friendship.

“And you love being friends with him, but you find yourself wanting more?”

“Basically. I don’t think I know how to not want more with him, honestly.” He ponders for a moment before just completely unloading everything that’s been on his mind.

“It’s like… Before I met him, I repressed my sexuality for so long that when he first approached me, it felt… freeing. It felt like I finally wanted someone, and they wanted me back. I had been with other people—girls—before that, but I had never felt that kind of pull before. It was liberating. It was all so… new. And exciting. But then it started to feel… contained. Like within the four walls of whatever hotel room we were in was the only place where my desire was allowed. And I haven’t let it out since, because I haven’t been with another man since.”

Rose reaches out to hold his hand, sensing his unease with the subject. He grips it like a lifeline, never having felt this cut open before. It’s terrifying. But the more he lets it out, the freer he feels. So he takes a breath and keeps going.

“And I want to let it out again, now that I feel like I’ve come to terms with my sexuality. I want to feel that way again. And I want to understand it more. But whenever I think about wanting to be close to someone in that way, my mind always drifts back to him. But I can’t do anything about it, because we agreed to be friends. And I don’t want to ruin that. Plus, I can’t even tell if I feel this way because I’m actually in love with him, or if it’s because he’s the only person I’ve ever even allowed myself to look at in that way. Like, are those residual feelings just getting muddled by how close we are right now? Does that make sense? Sorry, I feel like I’m rambling—”

“Hey, don’t apologize. I literally asked you to ramble,” Rose quipped, getting a light chuckle out of them both. “You want my advice?”

“Please. There’s no one else I can talk to about all this, so I’ve been pretty in my head about it.”

Rose squeezes his hand before letting go now that Shane feels more at ease with the conversation. She gives him a small smile that says she’s happy to be his person.

“Well, from what you’ve told me, it kinda sounds like your queer journey so far has been pretty intertwined with this guy. Like, he was there when you were questioning things, he was there for your first experiences with a man…”

Shane nods, signaling Rose to continue.

“And there’s nothing inherently wrong with that. But it can also be… intense. I understand that it can be difficult to separate those feelings that are tied to him, from your own individual desires, when you’ve never let yourself feel them outside of this one person. It’s definitely easy to conflate that feeling with love.”

Shane thinks Rose sounds like she’s speaking from direct experience and makes a mental note to ask her about it later. For now, he lets her continue.

“And who knows? Maybe you are just in love with him. Maybe that’s why he comes to mind whenever you think about wanting to be with someone. But you said you can’t tell for sure, right?”

“Yeah, I don’t know. I’m so confused, Rose. I’ve only just accepted that I’m gay, and I really do wanna understand myself better in that regard. But I don’t know how to do that when my mind is so preoccupied with thoughts of him. Thoughts that I can’t do anything about, because I don’t want to fuck up our friendship. Thoughts that I can’t even tell if they’re there because I’m in love with him, or if it’s because he’s the only person I’ve ever been with whom I’ve actually been attracted to.” 

“No offense, by the way,” Shane adds, making them both laugh.

“Oh, none taken, baby!”

Rose continues when their giggles die down. “Well, I can’t tell you how you feel. And it looks like you can’t, either. But I see a couple ways this can go.”

“Okay, shoot.”

“One, you can talk to him and tell him everything you’ve told me. It’s not an outright confession, but if you want to keep figuring things out with him specifically, then you can start with that.”

Shane considers it for no more than a second. “God, no. I can’t do that. I think our friendship’s become too important to me for me to risk it on trying to figure myself out.”

“Okay, I figured you might say that. In that case, there’s really only one surefire thing I can suggest that can help you gain some clarity.”

“Which is…?”

“A little bit of healthy exploration, baby.”

Shane hums, considering it for a moment. It’s definitely something that has crossed his mind before, but he’s always been too cautious about his secret to even spare the idea a second thought.

“That makes sense. But even if I want to learn more about myself in that way… I can’t just hook up with some random guy. What if they out me?”

“I mean, Miles would definitely be down. And he would never out you if you told him.”

Shane snorts. “Rose, I can’t sleep with another friend. My two closest friends right now are both people I’ve slept with—to varying degrees of success.”

They share another giggle at that. Shane’s glad that their disastrous attempts at sex have at least completely evolved to be things they can both just laugh at.

“But yeah, no. No more sleeping with friends.”

“Got it. Well, lucky for you I know theeeee most discreet place to find just the kinda guy you need.”

“I don’t know, Rose…” Shane chews on his lip, still very much apprehensive at the thought of sleeping with a stranger. He’s always so careful about everything, especially this.

“Trust me, Shane. It’s a super exclusive bar—invite only. And the people who work there even sign NDAs and stuff. It’s all very serious. Miles and I have been going there for years. You’re not gonna get outed. It’s just a bunch of celebrities who have the same secret, looking for a place where they can be themselves.”

It feels like a bad idea. He doesn’t exactly feel good about having to trust random people with his best kept secret. But he trusts Rose, and doesn’t feel like she would lead him astray. She’s always made him feel safe. So even if it sounds terrifying, the fact that it’ll be Rose holding his hand through it does a lot to calm his nerves.

“I’ll think about it.” He settles on that, still not completely sure if he’s up to it. But he does feel an undercurrent of excitement at the idea. So maybe he just needs to say fuck it, for once. 

Rose perks up at his consideration. “Okay. Just let me know whenever, and me and Miles will take you! Or just me, if you don’t wanna tell him, of course.”

“Thank you, Rose,” he says earnestly before letting his friend ramble on about all the cute outfits they can wear and all the fun times they can have. Things have started feeling a little lighter, having her by his side. He’s so glad he went to that random ass party. He should send JJ a gift basket or something.

***

After being shown the news, Ilya spends the rest of that day in a daze. Shane Hollander was seen out and about holding hands with Rose Landry.

He thinks about bringing it up to Shane, asking him questions. Friends talk about this stuff, right?

But he doesn’t know where to begin. How could he even phrase it without letting any of the jealousy he feels seep through?

So, Rose Landry huh?

Got yourself a girlfriend, Hollander?

I wonder what people would say if we were spotted walking out of a restaurant holding hands. I do not think they would be as nice.

He types and deletes more messages than he can count. Not knowing what the fuck to even say, he ends up deftly avoiding the subject entirely, despite his curiosity eating him alive.

He figures it’s not all that strange, considering they never really talked about relationships even before the headlines. But that’s because there wasn’t much to talk about, at least not on Ilya’s side. All he ever had were random hookups and casual arrangements with friends. And where would he even find the time to start seeing someone now when his screen time has gone up 47% just talking to Shane?

Oh god, has Shane been seeing someone this entire time? Not that he’s not allowed to. Of course he is. Ilya just hasn’t thought about it. But he’s definitely thinking about it now.

How many people has Shane been with since their last time? Is Rose just the first one to go public because she’s famous? Has Shane been with other men since? Ilya feels a brief flash of anger at the thought before he chastises himself for being possessive over someone he has absolutely no right to claim.

The pictures and the comments keep coming, and Ilya can’t help but sift through them all. Neither Shane nor Rose have confirmed anything, but they’ve been seen together so much these past couple months that even Ilya’s yearning ass can’t deny that there’s something between them anymore.

He feels like he’s going insane. But every time he wants to bring it up to Shane, he chickens out. Maybe because the hours he gets to spend talking to Shane are always the highlight of his week, and he doesn’t want to ruin them by bringing up something that will actively hurt him.

It’s a specific kind of pain he’s never felt before, really. Partly because Shane has never been seen with anyone literally ever.

But mostly because it’s a different kind of pain seeing someone you have only ever been allowed to love in secret, be loved so openly.

And no one questions it. The same way no one questioned the girls he used to be seen with at clubs back when he used to frequent them.

And yet, when he and Shane were meeting up in secret, they could never dare to step even a little bit out of line or the consequences would be catastrophic. All they had were stolen moments. Quiet touches. Whispered room numbers. Sketchy back alleyway entrances to buildings. They couldn’t even go through the front door, it was that bad. Even their contact names were a farce, for fuck’s sake.

His traitorous mind chooses this exact moment to remind him that the one time he kissed Shane outside—on the rooftop after he won rookie of the year—he shoved him and walked away. It was dark. No one could see them. He’s pretty sure Shane wouldn’t shove Rose Landry even if she kissed him in broad daylight in the middle of the street.

It’s so fucking unfair. He’s loved Shane for years. Rose has known him for mere months. How come she gets broad daylight, when all Ilya ever got was the darkness of night?

It’s neither of their faults, but it’s infuriating nonetheless.

Ilya just lets the feeling quietly simmer within him until it finally slips out as they’re on the phone ahead of the All-Star Game in Florida, talking about how they’re looking forward to playing on the same team for the first time.

“You think they’ll put us on a line together?” Shane asks excitedly.

“Maybe. Can you even play wing, Hollander?” Ilya teases.

“I don’t have to, Rozanov,” Shane quips right back, the smirk evident just through his voice.

“Ah, I see how it is. You get a stylist and now you have celebrity ego.” Ilya can’t hold back a smile of his own. Teasing Shane has always been fun, but it’s even more fun now that he’s comfortable enough to always play along.

Shane gasps overdramatically. “Ilya. I told you that in confidence. How dare you use it to make fun of me?”

The tone of his voice makes Ilya think of the way Shane would bat his eyes innocently, always rendering Ilya completely useless. Like putty in his hands. It’s a good thing this isn’t a Facetime call—small mercies. Ilya would never fucking win an argument again if Shane kept bringing those eyes out. God, focus, Ilya.

“I can use the information you share however I please, Hollander,” he responds with a chuckle, and continues absentmindedly. “Why did you even get a stylist in the first place? Requirement for having a celebrity girlfriend?”

Shit. That just came out. Ilya was too comfortable joking around with Shane that his brain to mouth filter stopped working for a second.

Well, it’s out there now. Might as well see what he has to say.

Shane has been wondering when Ilya would finally bring it up.

See, he’s noticed a very slight shift in Ilya’s behavior ever since the tabloids started reporting on him and Rose. It’s nothing major, but he’s been just a tad bit grumpier, especially on days when Shane was seen out with her.

He doesn’t want to assume any correlation, but the timing certainly lines up. Not that Ilya has ever asked him about it directly, though. And it’s not like Shane’s about to volunteer that information out of nowhere. It would feel presumptuous to just assume that Ilya would care about his relationship. Although he supposes it’s a normal thing for friends to talk about. He just feels a little weird about it, all things considered.

But he’s not opposed to talking about it, if Ilya asks. So he waits to see if he brings it up. And he doesn’t, not for a long time. Hell, the relationship has already died in the time it takes for Ilya to finally mention it.

“Oh, so you read tabloids now?” Shane teases.

“Can’t help it when your face has been all over my feed for months, Hollander.”

“And yet this is the first time I’m hearing about it?”

They both keep their tone casual, but there’s an undercurrent of awkwardness considering it’s not a subject they usually broach.

“Hm. I did not want to pry.”

“We’re friends, Ilya. You could’ve asked. I wouldn’t have minded,” Shane offers sincerely.

Yes, but it would have hurt, Ilya doesn’t say.

“Okay, I am asking now then. How is your famous celebrity girlfriend?” He says instead.

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“No?” The relief Ilya feels is immediate and bone fucking deep. He hopes Shane doesn’t hear it in the giant breath he lets out.

“No.” Shane sighs. “I mean, we tried for a while. And she’s great. I love her.”

Ilya bristles at that. He wonders if it’s something Shane feels for him, even platonically. They’ve certainly never said it out loud.

“We’re still friends to this day,” Shane continues. “It’s why the media assumes we’re still together. But we broke up a while ago. We’re just not… compatible, I guess.”

“Compatible?” Ilya’s pretty sure he knows what that means, but he’s curious to hear more.

“Yeah. Not in that way, at least.”

“What do you mean?”

“I…” Shane pauses, carefully considering what he’s about to say. “Ilya, you’re actually sworn to secrecy this time.”

“Sure.” 

“I mean it, okay? Not a word to anyone. And no making fun of me, either,” Shane adds with a chuckle to lighten the atmosphere.

“Okay, okay.” Ilya chuckles right alongside him, but assures him earnestly anyway. “I promise, Shane.”

“Okay. Uhhh, she kind of… helped me realize that I’m gay.”

There’s a little pause before Ilya laughs, and Shane wants to be mad at him for it but before he knows it, he’s laughing too.

It makes Ilya press the button to request to switch the call to Facetime. It’s his favorite sound in the world, but he would prefer getting to see the accompanying smile too.

Shane takes a moment to accept, so what Ilya sees instead is a little pout trying to mask the smile that was obviously there just a second ago. The sight is so fucking cute that it goes straight to Ilya’s chest. He doesn’t even try to hide how endeared he is by it, his smile getting bigger the longer he looks at Shane’s lips quivering in an attempt not to laugh.

“I said no making fun of me,” Shane chides, but his ridiculous little angry kitten face drowns out any bite his voice could’ve had.

“I am not making fun of you, Shane.” Ilya tilts his head, endlessly endeared. He wants nothing more than to reach out through the phone and drag his thumb over Shane’s stupid adorable little pout and kiss the crinkles off of his slightly scrunched up eyebrows. If only.

“You were laughing two seconds ago!” Shane scolds, but he can’t keep the smile off his face any longer.

“Sorry, I did not mean to! It’s just…” Ilya starts, clear amusement all over his face.

“Just what?” Shane narrows his eyes, curious what Ilya’s getting at.

“Hm. Just… We did lots of gay things, Hollander. Thought that might have clued you in.”

Shane scoffs in disbelief, but he’s still smiling. They don’t really talk about that a lot; it’s the one topic they’re both a little iffy to bring up. But it’s refreshing to be able to talk about it so casually. “I know, you asshole. But you’re not gay, so.”

“No, not completely.”

“Well, I am. Completely.” Shane takes a breath, grateful for the moment of levity but shifting gears to a bit of a more serious tone. “But I guess I held on to the possibility that maybe I wasn’t for longer than I should have, ‘cause… Well, you know.”

Ilya hums. He does know. They’ve talked about the kind of crazy expectations Shane has on his shoulders, and how much pressure that puts on him. He imagines it must be difficult to accept your sexuality when you don’t feel like it aligns with those expectations.

Ilya’s relationship with his own sexuality is a little different. He’s never tried to deny it to himself like Shane has, just knowing from an early age what he wants. All the external factors at play may have impacted how he acted on his desires, but never his own acceptance of their existence. It’s always been a nice anchor. The world may have been able to dictate what he was allowed to do out in the open, but he has never let it control his innermost desires.

For Shane, he seems to have internalized the external pressures so much that it made the same kind of self-acceptance impossible for him. Until now, that is. Ilya’s happy that he can at least have that. The world doesn’t really give them much, so a little self-acceptance goes a long way.

“Hm. But not anymore?”

“Not anymore. I’m definitely gay.” Every time Shane says it out loud, he feels reaffirmed. He feels just a little freer each time, like a tiny thorn is dislodged from his lungs and he can breathe just a little bit easier. He wonders how many times he has to say it, and who he has to say it to, until every breath can finally feel completely clear.

“I’m proud of you, Shane,” Ilya says earnestly. He might love needling Shane, but he knows how much this means to him, and how hard it must’ve been for him to get here. So he lets himself be nothing but sincere for once.

“Thanks. It’s scary as fuck. But having Rose has been really helpful. And you too, I guess.” Shane clears his throat and briefly looks away at that last admission, always feeling a little bashful when his vulnerability is directed at Ilya.

They sit in that warm feeling for a while, just taking in how grateful they are to have each other in whatever way they can.

“No more celebrity girlfriends for you then, huh?” Ilya quips after a moment, needing a reprieve from all the warm feelings in his belly.

“Nope,” Shane confirms, popping the p.

“Good.” Ilya smiles at his own admission. He’s secretly grateful for entirely selfish reasons, but he can just turn it into a joke later on so he doesn’t have to tell Shane how he really feels.

“Good?” Shane raises an eyebrow.

“Yes. It distracts my team, seeing your headlines. They start thinking they can get celebrity girlfriends too.”

“Right.” Shane shakes his head fondly.

“Wait, how exactly did she help you realize you were gay?” Ilya asks, eagerly going back to his favorite hobby of annoying his adorable friend.

Shane snorts. “Fuck off. I am not going into details.”

They end up talking for what feels like hours that day. Ilya’s glad Shane feels comfortable enough with him to share something so personal, especially knowing just how closely he usually keeps that stuff to his chest.  

A part of him wishes he asked about Rose sooner. It would’ve alleviated his pain earlier if he knew that they weren’t even together that long. But he’s a coward, so this is what he gets. At least the wondering is over now.

But he does realize that although he doesn’t have to worry about the Rose of it all anymore, that doesn’t mean this sort of thing won’t happen again. In fact, with Shane feeling more comfortable with his sexuality, it might not be long before Ilya has to deal with stupid jealousy again. What a horrible fucking emotion. It makes him want to brace for impact, just so he can prepare himself for having to inevitably face it again.

But he’ll cross that bridge when he gets there. For now, he can’t wait to see Shane at the All-Star Game in Florida. They’re playing on the same team, and finally have an excuse to actually have friendly interactions on the ice—and maybe even off of it—more akin to the ones they have behind closed doors.

It would be a nice little taste of what they can have in the future, if the world ever decides to let up.

***

Shane feels even lighter after coming out to Ilya. He was originally planning on doing it in Florida, since it felt like the kind of conversation that would be better had face to face.

But Ilya finally asked about Rose, so it all kind of just came tumbling out of him.

Well, all except the fact that he’s actually taken Rose up on her offer to go to that bar. And that he’s been… having a little bit of fun with it.

See, Shane has never been a club person. Or a dancing person. Or a casual hookup person. And he still isn’t. Not really.

But he can’t say that dancing with Miles and Rose until he locked eyes with some hot guy from across the room and eventually went home with him wasn’t a pleasant experience.

But more than that, it’s also been a revealing experience, in terms of understanding how he really feels. Rose was absolutely right about the clarity that a little bit of exploration can bring.

Shane feels like he’s had an epiphany, a few outings later. But it all really started unraveling that first night they went to the bar…

Chapter End Notes

the jealous ilya rozanov tag has made its appearance but the rose jealousy is unfortunately nothing compared to how he’ll feel when he finds out about the men from the super secret bar :c

anyway!

i’ve had the convo with rose in the drafts about his experience with ilya being the only time he’s been with someone he actually wants so hearing hudson talk about that got me emotional 🥲 i also had the beard comment in there so it was funny hearing him call her that lmao but yea

i think it’s clear from the show that shane struggles a lot with repression, because of the position that he’s in, and all the beliefs he’s internalized whether consciously or not about what someone in that position is supposed to be like. there’s a lot of pressure on him—sometimes from sources that are well-meaning like his family, but it’s still pressure nonetheless, and also just from the world at large. you’re a role model, shane. these kids look to you for inspiration, shane. they don’t usually see themselves in this position, shane.

it’s the kind of stuff that would make someone want to meticulously sculpt every part of them to fit this image of perfection that is expected of them. so when he sees this part of him that he doesn’t feel fits this mold, the instinct is to fix it.

and it’s so fucking sad. because he doesn’t even feel like he can explore it at all until he finds at least one person who tells him it’s okay. that’s why the coming out scene with rose is one of my top 3 favorite scenes in the show. it’s so impactful, and you can see that impact all throughout that episode with how shane carries himself in florida. i love it so fucking much it’s like watching someone who’s repressed a part of him his entire life noticeably act like a giant weight was lifted off their shoulders. it doesn’t fix everything all at once but it’s such a huge fucking relief that you can VISIBLYYY see the relative lightness in florida shane

so we see that here BUT instead of zeroing in on ilya after his big revelation, shane instead does a little bit of exploration. since he walked away from ilya in vegas and they’ve now been friends for a year, the whole ilya of it all is much more confusing for him in this iteration of events. he thinks he might be in love with ilya, but doesn’t want to risk their friendship, and also can’t really tell for sure because he’s only ever felt desire with ilya and doesn’t know what that even looks like outside of ilya.

it’s hard enough figuring out your sexuality, so to have everything you know about yourself in that regard be tied to that one person, and to be hung up on it for so long even after it ended when it wasn’t exactly the healthiest experience for you... it’s a lot to untangle.
so yea i think a little bit of exploration can help with that. now that he’s accepted his sexuality, it can help him figure out what it actually means for him outside of ilya. or it can help him confirm that he really does just want ilya after all. either way, it can bring about some clarity.

i also like when exploration like this comes naturally, and from a desire to better understand YOURSELF and what YOU want. just personal preference but i don’t like it as much when it’s specifically coming from a place of intentionally wanting to make someone jealous or whatever. the jealousy can just be an unintended consequence sometimes but lol go hoe out for yourself and no one else queen <3

and yes i just wanted shane to hoe out for two seconds okay. im getting them back together expeditiously after we talk about super secret bar shane and what it makes him realize i promise <3

Chapter 6: it's always been you

Chapter Summary

shane takes rose up on her offer to go to the super secret vip bar. he is flirty and thriving for about a month before some ilya related realizations ensue.

exploration can bring fun, but it can also bring clarity.

Chapter Notes

surprise im back !!

please don’t kill me for adding another chapter. i had too much fun with shane’s brief hoe era and him queening out with rose that i felt like it deserves a chapter of its own. so this is that. (dw i have learned my lesson i no longer try to estimate chapter counts bc i yap too much lol i just do /? now)

next chapter we’re going to tampa all stars to drive hollanov into the sunset together like i always planned <3 all roads lead to florida!

thank you thank you thank you for your patience with me on this fic! and thank you as well to those who have also been reading the other wip that took over my brain these past two months (it's twelve o'clock and i need your attention). i hoe shane out in that one too but it’s just to one other person (cliff marleau lmao) if you’re interested in more shane standing up for himself post vegas i have more there!

oh and slight spoiler warning for yellowjackets! i made it the show shane and ilya are watching together bc it’s my favorite show <3 so they talk about it a little bit in the text messages in the last portion of this. i know it’s not time period accurate and also sophie nelisse is literally in that but let’s just pretend for fun!

hope you enjoy!

 

ps updated tags to include minor shane/male ocs bc i know it’s something some people might want to avoid. hollanov endgame obviously, this is just a very brief hoe phase. but still

There are a lot of things that Shane comes to learn during his brief but meaningful period of exploration. 

Unfortunately, one of them is that actively trying not to think about something is basically the same thing as thinking about it.

See, Shane is coming into this telling himself that he’s not going to make it about Ilya. He’s not doing this because of Ilya. He’s not doing this to get over Ilya.

This is about Shane and what he wants. This is about getting a better understanding of himself and his sexuality outside of Ilya, which up until this point has been his only real tether to it.

And that’s exactly what it ends up being. For the most part. For a while there, it does feel like a breath of fresh air.

He’s having fun. Learning new things. Discovering what he likes, and in some cases what he absolutely doesn’t.

But it turns out that having a big flashing sign in his mind that says Don’t think about Ilya! means that at least sometimes, or eventually, he will in fact think about Ilya.

Fortunately though, it doesn’t start out that way. 

The first night his schedule finally lines up with Rose and Miles’, Shane is nervous as all hell. He almost cancels, but he knows that the more he avoids it, the more confused he’ll stay about everything.

And he doesn’t want that anymore. What he wants is to feel more comfortable with himself, now that he’s done the hard part of accepting who he is.

So he lets Rose hype him up as they get ready, gushing about how hot he looks while endlessly reassuring him of all the protocols in place at the bar that ensure his safety.

Staff NDAs. Invite only. Top-notch security all around. Absolutely no pictures allowed. Rose says there was only ever one person with nefarious intentions who attempted to take a picture within the premises, and they promptly got blacklisted from every single production that was worth a damn.

It’s a little fucking intimidating, but definitely helps calm his nerves. These people mean business when it comes to assuring that the clientele is safe and that their secrets don’t come out.

They start out with a couple drinks—nothing too crazy, just some liquid courage to help Shane loosen up. And it definitely works, considering how he finds himself on the dance floor not long after, sandwiched between Miles and Rose.

He’s never been much of a dancer necessarily; all his gracefulness is unfortunately exclusive to the ice. But a combination of liquid confidence, the sexy little sheer top that Rose put him in, and Miles guiding his hips to the rhythm—all make him feel like hot shit on that dance floor.

His momentary confidence is further bolstered by the fact that when he finally opens his eyes—he doesn’t even remember closing them, but he supposes he got lost in the music at some point—quite possibly the most handsome man he’s ever seen is staring right at him from across the room.

And it’s not just any old stare. It’s the kind of look you only find on someone who has seen something they want and is determined to get it.

Shane has no time to wonder how long the gorgeous man has been watching him dance and feel flustered about it because the moment their eyes lock, he approaches.

“Hey,” he greets with an easy smile as he joins their little dance circle in the most natural way possible. Shane thinks the man has the type of effortless charm that can captivate an entire room in two seconds flat.

The trio greet the man back. And he’s polite enough to not ignore Rose and Miles, but anyone with eyes can see that his attention is locked in on Shane.

Rose and Miles introduce themselves, and the man earnestly gives them compliments as he recalls a film or two that he’s seen them in. They absolutely beam.

Shane thinks this man is quite the charmer. Rose and Miles aren’t usually the type to be easily flattered by compliments like that, considering they get it a lot.

“I’m Shane,” he offers when the man’s attention inevitably lands back on him. “What’s your name?”

Shane notices his friends share a subtle shocked look at the question in his periphery. Is it weird that he doesn’t know who this man is, then? He must be famous. Shane barely keeps up with anything outside of hockey to be able to tell.

“Louis,” the man says as he offers his hand for Shane to shake. His touch lingers, and it—combined with his alluring stare—sends shivers down Shane’s spine. “Would your lovely friends here mind if I took you to the bar and bought you a drink?”

“Absolutely not! Steal away,” Rose responds enthusiastically at the same time as Miles says, “Go for it!” while subtly nudging Shane towards the beautiful stranger.

He thanks them and guides Shane to the bar with a hand on his lower back. Shane chances a glance back at his friends who give him encouraging nods and a thumbs up, the biggest smiles plastered on their faces—like proud mama birds watching their little fledgling take flight for the first time.

Louis buys him a drink and they chat about typical things you do when you first meet someone. Shane wouldn’t say he’s particularly good at small talk like that, but he thinks he’s doing alright.

He learns that Louis is a French actor who travels back and forth between Europe and North America a lot for his films and various obligations. His charm is amplified even more when they periodically switch to French for a moment before going back to English. 

Shane sheepishly talks a little bit about hockey in return. He thinks it must sound boring in comparison to the movie star life, but Louis looks fully engrossed as he talks about how he has All-Stars coming up in a little over a month.

“Hm. All-Stars, huh? You must be really good at the game then, Shane. Graceful on the ice, if your lovely dancing is any indication. And good with your hands, I presume?” Louis says with a drawl that has Shane slightly dizzy. Or maybe it’s the buzz from the alcohol that’s making his head spin. He’s not drunk by any means, but he’s pleasantly tipsy.

That buzz combined with Louis’ voice, his ravenous stare, the way he inches closer ever so slightly when he talks to make sure Shane can hear him, and the way his hand is absentmindedly playing with the hem of Shane’s shirt—it’s all making Shane’s insides feel like jelly. In a good way. Louis is really good at this flirting thing.

“I’m alright,” Shane responds as he leans in closer too. He hears Louis’ breath hitch at their increasing proximity and revels in the fact that he can basically feel the man’s desire emanating from him. It emboldens him enough to say, “Better with my mouth, I think.”

Louis takes that as a cue to drop his gaze to Shane’s lips, and his stare only grows hungrier. “Care to show me?” He asks with a sly smile.

Shane thinks he might be getting better at this whole flirting thing himself.

He’s never really done this type of back and forth before. Not well, at least.

He had Ilya, but that basically started with them chirping each other, going against each other on the ice, and nothing more than the smallest clandestine brushes of hands, before Ilya unceremoniously started jerking off while they were in the showers together because he noticed Shane growing hard.

So Shane wouldn’t exactly call that flirting. It was more like a weird mating ritual exclusive to hockey rivals.

He had been with girls before that, but he doesn’t remember ever feeling this tingling sensation in his belly as they flirted—or, more accurately, as the girls flirted at him until he finally gave in to their advances.

There was Rose, of course. But he recalls their first chat being more comfortable than it was flirty, necessarily. He loved talking to her immediately, but it was nothing like this.

This is thrilling. The looks. The subtle touches. The flirting. The palpable desire floating in the air. It’s exactly the type of thing he has never allowed himself to indulge in, because his desire was always just locked up in those random hotel rooms.

But now it’s out in the open, in a safe space where no one will judge him or out him—just being allowed to exist, and even being reciprocated by a man he would very much like to go home with to further explore said desire.

He’s letting himself want something, and it doesn’t feel like his life might fall apart as a consequence. Not in the moment, at least. Instead, it just feels like two people seeing each other from across the room, and being drawn towards one another by nothing but attraction—plain and simple.

And so Shane realizes that desire doesn’t have to feel all-consuming all the fucking time. It somehow always felt like that with Ilya, considering the strength of the emotions he was feeling as well as the stakes he felt were looming over their heads whenever they snuck around.

It was good, but it was a lot. Tonight Shane learns that it doesn’t always have to be that way.

It can also just be simple. Carefree. Fun.

So as he agrees to Louis’ request to take him back to his hotel room, he concludes: Shane Hollander is allowed to have fun.

He says goodbye to his friends—with Rose making him promise that he will text her with updates so she knows he hasn’t been killed by a famous stranger, even though she also has Shane’s location on her phone for good measure.

Louis says goodbye to them too, promising that he will return their friend to them not only safe, but also satiated.

Shane blushes at that, while his friends are thoroughly charmed.

They make more small talk on the brief car ride back to Louis’ hotel, and Shane likes how refreshing it is to talk to someone so entirely detached from the hockey world.

In the backseat of this car, he doesn’t feel like Shane Hollander, the golden boy of hockey. It’s an objectively nice thing to be hailed as, but it also comes with a lot of expectations that he doesn’t always feel like upholding.

So it’s nice to just be Shane, for once. Just a guy.

It’s not something he feels like he’s allowed to be, even around the people closest to him. He loves his parents, but hockey always finds a way to permeate their conversations. Rose is a nice reprieve from the hockey world, but even she is very much aware of Shane’s place in it.

Pretty much everyone in his life is at least hockey adjacent. So he’s never been truly, purely just Shane.

Except for right now. Now, Shane is just a guy in the backseat of a car on the way to get thoroughly fucked by Louis, who is also just some guy. To Shane, at least.

They waste no time when they get inside Louis’ hotel room. And the first thing Shane thinks about as Louis’ lips are on his is, surprisingly, nothing at all.

His mind is completely clear. Shane is in his head all the time, but sex is one of the few things that has always been able to get him out of it. Even for just a brief moment.

And before this, it was only ever Ilya who has managed to do that for him—get him so lost in the haze of pleasure that he has no room to overthink anything.

It’s nice to know that that’s not an Ilya-exclusive thing, and is more of just a good sex thing, as he feels Louis begin to undress him and get on his knees.

Shane feels many of the knots inside his head begin to untangle as the night goes on. He doesn’t magically have all the answers, but he feels that much closer to understanding and being fully comfortable with his sexuality, just like he’s always yearned to.

Louis fucks him exactly in the way he likes, and he doesn’t think about Ilya once. There’s a sense of freedom there, now not having his entire sexual identity tied to just one person.

He’s not going to say that this means he has no feelings for Ilya at all, but it’s definitely liberating to be able to take his sexuality and separate it from the only person thus far that he had been able to explore it with. Now, he feels like he can look at his sexuality and actually examine it outside of Ilya. And he likes what he sees so far.

All that to say, while the Ilya of it all remains murky, Shane’s understanding and acceptance of his sexuality is definitely much clearer after tonight.

They cuddle and chat idly for a while after, with Louis casually offering for Shane to stay the night. Shane finds himself wanting to, because it doesn’t feel like such a monumental ask coming from Louis—unlike it used to with Ilya who always had one foot out the door.

But he promised Rose an early breakfast debrief, so he opts not to stay. Louis shrugs it off and they exchange numbers, with a loose plan to meet up again if they’re ever in the same city.

The casual nature of this whole thing was already established earlier in the night, when they shared how much they both travel for work and how little time they both have for anything more than that.

It’s casual, and yet it doesn’t break Shane’s heart. He likes it, even—likes the carefree, almost blasé nature of it. Huh. Another revelation. Turns out Shane can do casual perfectly fine, he just couldn’t do it with Ilya. Interesting. He files the thought away to be unpacked at a later date.

Louis kisses him goodbye at the door, and the promise made to his friends to return him safe and satiated is absolutely fulfilled.

Shane has breakfast with Rose the next day and they gush over how successful Shane’s first casual hookup with a stranger was. Rose also fills him in on how respected Louis is within the film industry, not that Shane can tell even as she lists his most acclaimed films. 

“I’m no longer the most famous person on your phone, Shaney,” Rose teases, pretending to pout over it.

“I don’t know about that. I’ve seen most of your movies, Rose. I haven’t even heard of a single movie of his that you’ve mentioned.”

Rose laughs. “Oh, my sweet Shane. Don’t let a film bro hear you say that!”

Shane talks about how good he felt the night before, and how low-pressure everything was. He’s never been able to let go like that before, and it was nice. Freeing.

He sees Rose perk up at the realization that her suggestion for Shane to explore has helped him immensely.

He remembers what she said the last time they had a heart to heart—while there’s nothing inherently wrong with his queer journey so far being so deeply intertwined with one person, it’s easy to conflate that feeling with love when you have nothing else to compare it to.

Now that Shane has taken the first step towards untangling the idea of Ilya from his sexuality as a whole, he concludes that Rose was right about exploration being helpful in that regard. And he can’t wait to do some more of it.

“This is huge, Shane! I’m so glad. You deserve to slut yourself out more. You’re too pretty to be kept from the world!”

“Rose!” Shane chides, but he’s giggling right alongside her.

“What? It’s true! And I’m down to go back to the bar whenever you are. Miles and I were good wingmen, right?”

“The best. Louis probably only noticed me because I was sandwiched between the hottest people in that room,” Shane quips.

Rose gasps. “Shane Hollander, are you flirting with me?”

“Hm. Maybe I would be, if I wasn’t super gay.”

They share a laugh, and Rose looks at him fondly when their giggles peter out. “Comfort looks good on you, Shane. I’m glad this is helping, really. It’s so nice to hear you talk about it so openly now, when the first time I confronted you about it, you were trying so hard not to cry in your salad!”

Shane groans, but the gratitude is written all over his face. It’s true. He’s come a long way since their teary breakup, when Rose had to basically coax it out of him. Now, he’s just comfortable saying it out loud without even a second thought. It feels really fucking good.

“I’m proud of you, Shane. Really,” Rose says earnestly.

“Thank you, Rose. I literally couldn’t have done any of it without you,” Shane responds, dangerously close to tears once more. But they’re happy tears this time, at least.

“Stop, you’re gonna make me cry!” Rose says with a giggle to push her tears back in. “I love you, Shane. You’re the best gay boyfriend I’ve ever had!”

“I love you too, Rose. Best ex-girlfriend ever,” Shane says as he squeezes her hand over the table.

“Okay. Enough sappy stuff! When do you wanna go back to the bar? Miles and I are free next week, and there’s this really cute outfit I saw at a store that would look so hot on you!”

***

Now, if only things kept going uphill from there.

Unfortunately, Shane quickly learns that not all one night stands were made equal. As it turns out, Shane just got very lucky with meeting Louis that first night. 

If Louis feels like a perfect little glimpse into what casual dating and sex can look like and how fun it can be, this second guy might as well be a blaring alarm warning you to not even bother putting yourself out there because it’s slim fucking pickings.

It’s so disastrous that Shane doesn’t even remember his name.

Things start out okay enough. The guy is really hot, and catches Shane’s attention immediately.

This guy is no Louis, though—not nearly as charming, not even close, and doesn’t make Shane feel tingly with his words and his touch. But Shane is not in the business of just immediately comparing people to the last guy he slept with.

It’s a pretty high bar, so it wouldn’t be fair. Plus, Shane’s here to explore. And he’s horny. This guy’s attractive, and seems nice enough. He’s also definitely really into Shane.

They chat and dance a little with Rose and Miles before he eventually invites Shane back to his place.

And things just go downhill from there. Shane realizes he’s been lucky so far with how attentive his partners have been during sex.

Hell, Shane was more attentive with the women he’s been with, than this guy is currently being with him. He might not have always performed to the best of his abilities with them—you know, considering the whole non-attraction to women thing—but he always made sure to focus on their pleasure, at least!

But this guy is entirely too eager to chase his own pleasure, and entirely too oblivious to Shane’s lack thereof.

It’s so bad that Shane’s grateful that it’s over fast. He gets out of there quickly—politely, but quickly—and thankfully gets a call from Louis when he’s back in bed. Louis talks him through an actually satisfying orgasm, far from the one that he had with the guy he’s already erased from his memories. 

Shane has his usual debrief with Rose the next day. While it’s mortifying to recount such a mediocre lay, it’s also nice to commiserate with his best friend. Shane is learning to appreciate the joys of girl talk.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry baby!” Rose can’t hold back her giggles, but she does look like she feels bad. “Hey, it’s kind of a rite of passage, no? You were bound to have bad sex at some point!”

“I thought I was done with bad sex once I finally figured out that I wasn’t attracted to women,” Shane jokes, making Rose laugh.

“Well, they can’t all be Louis, now can they?”

Shane snorts. “I got really lucky with that one, huh?”

“How are things with him, by the way?”

“Fun. He texted me after that first night but got really busy filming something the rest of the week, pretty much. But we had phone sex last night and it was hot.”

“Last night? Oh god. The guy was that bad, huh? Wait, what was his name again?”

Shane shrugs. “Fuck if I know.”

Rose gasps. “Shane Hollander! You little minx, already forgetting the name of the guy whose bed you were in just last night,” she teases.

“What? Maybe if he found my prostate, I would remember his name.”

Rose cracks up. “You are unbelievable!”

***

It’s barely been two weeks of this journey, but Shane already feels so much lighter.

Bad sex aside, there’s something really liberating about just letting himself go like this. Especially since he feels safe doing so, with Rose’s support and her constant company along with Miles.

He still talks to Ilya regularly via text and over the phone—not about this specific thing, but about everything else.

He even comes out to him at some point, when he finally asks Shane about Rose as they’re casually talking about the upcoming All-Stars.

There’s still a sense of comfort that envelops him when he talks to Ilya that he doesn’t quite get anywhere else. But he feels fine relegating that to a purely platonic box in his head, at least for now.

He’s still unsure about his true feelings on the matter, but he’s resolute to not ruin their friendship over it. At least not until he’s more certain. And he’s having fun exploring at the moment, so he just goes with the flow.

He doesn’t go back to the bar that third week, because Louis is miraculously doing press in New York the same night he has a game against the Admirals. 

He’s reminded what it feels like to get fucked well, and the guy from last week becomes an even more distant memory.

He meets a new guy the following week, and it’s not bad. Not bad at all. The sex is pretty good actually, but not good enough for them to exchange numbers. That one’s more of a one and done situation.

By the fourth time he goes to the bar, it starts feeling like a chore. He still has fun with Rose and Miles, but doesn’t really feel like entertaining the guys coming up to him.

He briefly dances with one of them, and even makes out with him a little bit. It’s another relatively small thing that he’s come to appreciate being able to do out in the open—kissing another man on the dance floor and not a single person giving a shit about it.

He distantly wonders if it’ll ever be something he can do out in the real world someday. Kiss another man. Or even just hold another man’s hand. Go on a date with another man, maybe. A part of him hopes so. But for now, having at least one safe space where he can do it is enough.

This guy is a little too eager though, so Shane excuses himself to go sit at a booth with Rose and Miles after the guy enthusiastically sucks a hickey beneath Shane’s collarbone and it does nothing for him. Gives him the ick a little bit, if anything.

Maybe he’s just not in the mood. Or maybe these guys just aren’t doing it for him.

But then his phone buzzes in his pocket. He forgot to put it on do not disturb like he usually does when he comes here.

He reads the texts and can’t help the smile on his face when he sees Ilya’s ramblings.

They’ve been binge watching Yellowjackets together, which is a show about a high school soccer team stranded in the middle of nowhere after a plane crash. They do… dire things to survive.

It’s a very emotionally complex story, and Shane has loved getting attached to these characters and their journeys with Ilya.

One of the characters, Javi, is younger than the rest of the cohort and has been missing the last few episodes they watched.

It’s safe to say that Ilya’s distressed over it.

Lily

Shane I cannot sleep I need to know what happens to Javi

He has been missing for weeks. Months?

Will they ever find him? Is he gone forever

I need to know he is okay

Poor kid, is so cold out there in Canadian rockies!

Jane

I apologize to Javi and all of the Yellowjackets on behalf of Canada

Lily

As you should!

He is freezing out there! What if he is like Jackie now 😭

On a scale of 1-10 how mad would you be if I watched an episode without you

Jane

Don’t you fucking dare

I swear to god our friendship will not survive that level of betrayal

Lily

I was just kidding!

I would never watch an episode without you

But know that the longer we do not know how Javi is doing, the more I am suffering

Shane’s cheeks hurt from smiling and he is hit with the startling realization that he would much rather be watching their little TV show with Ilya on the phone, than be out here at the bar trying to get laid.

The thought stops him dead in his tracks. Suddenly, the platonic Ilya box in his head doesn’t feel so platonic anymore.

He’s endlessly more charmed by Ilya’s texts than he has been by anyone who came up to him tonight. And trust him, there have been quite a few. Hell, the texts have done more for him than the guy who had his tongue down Shane’s throat just a few minutes ago.

And don’t get him wrong, openly exploring like this has been thrilling. But he realizes that maybe he’s gotten everything that he wants and needs out of it.

That maybe, what he actually wants now is none other than the person who has been plaguing his mind for years.

That maybe, there’s a clear reason why Shane has had no problem having casual sex with strangers this past month, but had to set a clear boundary when he walked out of Ilya’s penthouse suite in Vegas years ago because he couldn’t bear staying casual with him.

And he knows exactly what that reason is.

He feels much more comfortable admitting that now that he’s actually put himself out there and gone to see for himself what the rest of the world has to offer.

It’s not half bad out there. There are people like Louis who can satisfy him to no end and are also just nice and fun to be around. The perfect, low-stakes, casual hookup.

There are also duds out there. And there are people who are perfectly fine. It’s a whole spectrum.

But when there’s already someone who makes him smile just by promising him that he would never watch an episode of their TV show without him, Shane realizes that maybe there’s no longer a point in looking around.

When he finally looks up from his phone, he sees Rose already looking at him like she knows.

“I think I’m gonna call it a night,” Shane says, heart still trying to settle after his realization. “Is that okay?”

“Of course, Shane,” Miles assures.

“Don’t forget our breakfast debrief,” Rose says with a wink and a knowing smile.

Jane

Fine.

Give me 20 minutes and we can watch the next episode

Lily

YAYYYYY

Javi don’t worry we are coming to save you

Ilya is ridiculous. This is some kid in a fictional show. They cannot save him. Shane is ridiculously endeared, and is rushing out of the bar as we speak.

This past month or so of exploration has been a lot of fun for Shane. He’s gotten so much more comfortable with his sexuality in a relatively short amount of time—in large part thanks to Rose, as well as Louis, and even the couple other guys he’s slept with.

But mostly thanks to himself—for being brave enough to put himself out there in the first place.

He’s felt so free, just allowing himself to feel things out in the open that he has repressed for so long. He’s endlessly grateful for the fact that he’s had a safe space to do that.

But now he thinks that it might be time to zero in on what—or more specifically, who—he actually wants.

He gets cozy in bed and calls Ilya, ready to press play on their show.

The warmth that settles in his chest the moment he hears Ilya’s voice can’t make it any clearer.

He doesn’t blame himself for taking some time to figure it out. It was difficult to do that when he had no idea what his sexuality and his desires even looked like outside of Ilya.

But now that he’s seen it and felt it, he knows. His desire can, in fact, exist outside of Ilya. He knows what his sexuality looks like now, outside of Ilya.

And ironically enough, being able to separate those things is exactly what has led him to clarity. 

He is in love with this man. He’s certain of it now. And maybe, just maybe, he’s ready to risk it all.

Chapter End Notes

no one tell ilya what happens to javi on yellowjackets he will be heartbroken !

it’s okay though shane can comfort him through it 🥹

anyway i always love having shane explore a little bit. it’s so fun. again, there’s nothing wrong with him being ilya down the entire time in the show. if it works, it works. i just love exploring what it would be like if he had a chance to get comfortable with his sexuality outside of it just being tied to ilya. and in this iteration of events, he needs it more so than he does in the show bc the friendship of it all on top of him not having much experience letting his desire out with anyone other than ilya makes it all the more confusing for him.

and that’s where exploration can be helpful. it helps with his comfort and acceptance of his own sexuality outside of ilya, and he has a lot of fun with it. but it also helps him realize that at the end of the day, he already has someone he wants to do all these things with. and that’s where he decides he’s had enough exploration. he’s gotten everything that he’s gonna get from it. now his mind is clear.

also, in the show, shane has this air of newfound confidence about him post rose. we visibly see how much lighter the weight on his shoulders feels when he approaches ilya in florida. like there’s still some anxiety there but he’s noticeably more assertive. so i like taking that and seeing where it would go if he doesn’t zero in on ilya immediately after his rose induced epiphany, and instead tries this confidence out on other guys. that’s why he’s pretty unafraid to go bar for bar with louis there. but he’s good now! he’s had his experience and he’s ready to zero in on ilya again.

we’re ending it fr next chapter! but we’ll see ilya crash out a little bit first when he finds out about shane’s super secret bar shenanigans sorry ilya one last crash out for the road before you get your happily ever after! but i’ve written maybe ⅓ of it and i promise we’re getting that happy ending next chapter!

i truly meant to end this much sooner but i got really busy for a couple months (sorry in advance for the surprise notifs as i reply to comments that are 3-4 months old before posting this chapter lmao) and then when i got back to writing again, the cliff/shane idea in my other wip took over my brain and i had to get it out before i could come back to this again. we’re approaching the end there too and it’s been so much fun writing both fics. i hope it’s been a fun read as well <3

thank you as always for reading and for the kudos and for the lovely comments. reading and replying to them is my favorite thing in the world!

Chapter 7: indulgence

Chapter Summary

“What does malysh mean, by the way?” Shane asks, drawing random shapes on Ilya’s chest. They’ve been glued to each other all night, talking about everything and nothing. He remembers Ilya saying it earlier, and him filing it away in his head to ask about later.

“Ah, you have been holding on to that all night, have you, malysh?” Ilya teases as he pulls Shane’s face up so he can kiss him on the cheek. “Moya lyubov?” He adds as he plants another loud kiss on Shane’s other cheek. “Moy pomidor?” Another kiss on his forehead. “Dorogoy?” A kiss on the tip of his nose. “Kotenok?” Infinite more kisses in quick succession.

“Wait, slow down! I can’t remember all of that.” Shane descends into a fit of giggles as he keeps getting attacked by kisses all over his face and Russian nicknames he can’t keep up with.

“You are a fast learner, sweetheart. I am sure you will be fluent in no time,” Ilya says as he finally lets up on the kisses with a final one on Shane’s lips.

Chapter Notes

thank you so so much for sticking with me through this journey <3 i hope you enjoyed reading indulgence as much as i enjoyed writing it!

if you’re yearning for more of shane standing up for himself in vegas, i have another fic where he does just that and then forms an unlikely friendship with bisexual icon marly, driving ilya into a torment nexus of his own creation.

i also have an idea for a new fic that might consume my brain soon. but even if it does, i promise i will finish my other wip just like i eventually finished this one <3

oh and i have one final parting gift, a couple bonus scenes originally from this chapter that ended up on the cutting room floor because i got carried away with the length as i tend to do. and the vibes are a little different (like sillier than usual before it gets soft lol) so i figured i would give them a separate moment. it’s only like 2k words but i’ll post it after editing. hint: there’s more jealous ilya (taken up a notch but in a silly way), ilya never winning arguments against shane’s doe eyes, some talk about community and friendship and making plans to meet parents <3

an epilogue is never out of the question either (i usually write long periods of getting together and end it there, then sometimes come back to that universe if i also want to explore some soft, fluffy, established relationship territory) sooo maybe i’ll see you then. or maybe not, idk yet lol

this really is it though. the ending i’ve always had in my heart. it’s my longest chapter yet, but i promised you an ending here and now, so here it is. it makes sense anyway bc this all happens in the same weekend, so

have fun! see you in the end notes for one final yap 👋🏼

“So... You left early last night, Shaney. Alone. Did no one catch your eye?” Rose teases with a head tilt and a knowing smile at their very next breakfast debrief.

Shane narrows his eyes at her, but she just raises an eyebrow in response. He can pretend to be annoyed at being perceived all he wants. But really, what a joy it’s been to be known so well.

One glance at Shane smiling like an idiot at his phone and then bolting out of the bar with something like resolve written all over his face was all it took for Rose to intuit the revelation that’s been simmering beneath the surface.

“You’re too perceptive for your own good,” Shane grumbles before he relents. He returns Rose’s smile with one of his own and continues. “No one caught my eye last night, no. And I don’t think I’ll need to go back to that bar anytime soon. Maybe not for a long time. Or even… ever? If things go well,” he adds shyly.

Rose squeals. “I knew it! My best friend is in love,” she declares almost dreamily. “So when are you gonna tell him? You’re flying to All-Stars after this, right? I’m assuming he’ll be there.”

“How the fuck did you—”

“Relax. I knew it was another player already, and I just figured the Shane Hollander wouldn’t fall in love with someone who wasn’t either the best player on their team, or popular and charming enough to get a fan voted slot.”

Shane’s mouth gapes, unable to hide his bewilderment. Rose just laughs it off.

“Come on,” she continues. “Even your first casual hookup ever was Louis—one of the most acclaimed actors in the industry right now. You just like winners, baby! Nothing wrong with that.”

Shane scoffs, but it turns into a giggle as he realizes that Rose basically just called him out for having a competence kink. “You’re so annoying.”

“And I’m so right! Aren’t I?”

“Fine. Yes, he’ll be at All-Stars. And yes, I’m telling him I’m in love with him then.”

“Oh baby, I’m so happy for you!”

“Thanks,” Shane says as he shakes his head fondly. No matter how disarming it is to be seen and known, it’s also just been so lovely having Rose by his side supporting him through his coming out to her and his subsequent exploration. And having her rooting for him now that he wants to go after something more serious is even better.

She’s been his rock throughout this whole thing. They might not have been compatible romantically or sexually, but friendship is just as important of a relationship to nurture, if not maybe even more important in some cases—as he’s come to learn from his relationship with Rose, as well as from being friends with Ilya for two years now. 

So her support bolsters his confidence, but he’s still quite nervous about it.

“But maybe manage your expectations a little bit,” he adds. He’s determined to tell Ilya the truth, but he still has no idea how he’s going to react. “We don’t even know what he’s gonna say yet. He might turn me down, Rose,” Shane admits, his nerves now peeking through the layer of self-assurance he’s managed to earn through his journey so far.

“Please. No one in their right mind would turn down Shane Hollander. He’s a lucky man, babe.”

“You’re my best friend. And ex. You’re biased.”

“Nooooo, just honest. And hopeful,” Rose responds earnestly. “And look. Even on the off chance—and I mean wayyy off—that he does reject you, I promise you’ll be fine. I’ll come straight to your door with as many hugs as you need and a tub of ice cream, okay?”

Hope. As nervous as Shane is about baring his soul to Ilya and possibly getting shattered in the process if he doesn’t feel the same way, maybe Shane can allow a little hope to bloom in his chest. Maybe that would be okay.

Of course there’s a possibility that Ilya doesn’t want anything to do with him romantically. He might truly just see Shane as a friend now. And if that’s the case, Shane thinks he can live with it after giving himself some time to lick his wounds. He definitely values their friendship enough to try to preserve it, even if Ilya does reject him.

And he knows that Ilya cares about him to some extent, even if it isn’t romantically. So he has faith that their friendship is strong enough now to survive some good old fashioned unrequited love. Hopefully.

That being said, if there’s even the slightest chance that Ilya feels the same way, then it’s absolutely worth a shot. Heck, even if there isn’t, Shane thinks it’s still worth telling Ilya how much he loves him. So he’s determined to go through with it either way, regardless of the potential outcome.

Because Ilya deserves to know how much joy he brings to Shane’s life—with his little quips and their TV show binges and his stupid jokes and his kind heart.

Ilya deserves to know that them becoming friends is perhaps Shane’s favorite thing that’s happened in his life in recent times. Or, well, second favorite maybe. He did win the cup twice after all. But we can call it a tie for now.

Ilya deserves to know that whether Shane has a good day or a bad day, Ilya’s the first person he always wants to tell. That even the smallest, most insignificant things remind him of Ilya all the time now. That his day feels incomplete without Ilya’s name lighting up his phone screen.

Ilya deserves to know that as much as Shane tried to distance himself from their past when they reconnected, Shane has never been able to truly forget how Ilya’s skin feels against his. He’s never been able to forget how having Ilya’s lips on him sets his entire body and soul on fire. He’s never been able to forget how when Ilya’s inside him, he doesn’t know where Ilya ends and Shane begins.

Ilya deserves to know that as murky as Shane’s journey with his sexuality has been and might continue to be, and as unsure as he is about his future, or their future, if they’re even allowed to have one—Ilya’s the one thing he’s certain about.

Ilya’s the one piece of this that is crystal fucking clear in his mind. The only thing he has absolutely no doubts about.

He doesn’t know about the league. The public. Their careers. Russia. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever come out to the world. He doesn’t know how people will take it, if he does. He has no fucking clue. The only thing he knows for sure is that he loves Ilya enough to want whatever future he can have with him.

Ilya deserves to know that he is loved and cared for, and Shane is determined to tell him. He knows he won’t regret it regardless of the outcome. Whatever it is, he’ll survive it. And he’s hopeful that their friendship will, too.

“I call best man, by the way.” Rose’s voice pulls Shane out of his reverie. He tries not to think about how he probably had a stupid lovesick expression on his face again, prompting Rose’s comment.

“Rose,” he chides. “You’re getting ahead of yourself.”

“Maybe. But I just have a feeling, okay?”

Rose squeezes Shane’s hand twice over the table. Shane squeezes back as if to say, I hope you’re right.

“So. Summer wedding, right?” She says as she clasps her hands together and starts daydreaming for him. “Off-season. Since you’re a hockey fiend any other time of the year.”

“Probably, yeah. Off season sounds good,” Shane gives in with a chuckle. There’s no harm in indulging his best friend, he supposes. “Also, Hayden might fight you for that best man spot.”

“Please.” Rose scoffs. “Hayden doesn’t even know you’re gay! How’s he gonna be the best man at your gay wedding?”

Shane laughs as Rose continues to talk his ear off about his imaginary wedding. But the thought that he isn’t out to some of the closest people in his life lingers in the back of his mind. Rose is right. Hayden doesn’t even know that he’s gay. Neither do his parents, for that matter.

And getting lost in this daydream with Rose makes him realize that he obviously wants them there for moments like that in the future. If he ever does get married, he would want his parents by his side to witness their son brimming with love. He would want Hayden and JJ as his groomsmen. He would want Jackie and the kids there, maybe bringing the rings and throwing flower petals everywhere.

So another decision begins to solidify in his head as he finishes having breakfast with Rose. He’s going to come out to his parents. And then JJ, Hayden, and Jackie. Because they’re important to him, and he wants them to know him.

And also because with every new person he tells, it gets a little easier to breathe. Rose. Ilya. Miles. Louis. Even the nameless, faceless guys who were largely inconsequential, but are part of his journey nonetheless.

Like the space in which he gets to be more himself expands just a little bit more each time he lets someone in. From just in his apartment having intimate chats with Rose, to on his phone having Ilya get to know him more than anyone else ever has, to at that bar having fun with Rose and Miles.

He lets himself imagine having that safe space extend to his childhood home. His parents’ cottage. The Pike residence. Maybe even the locker room someday. It’s a nice thought.

But he also knows that realistically, it won’t be that way forever. One of these days, he’ll tell someone and he won’t get the outpouring of support that he has received so far. So he’ll prepare for that too.

For now though, he’s content to let his little world expand just one step at a time. Starting with his parents and his closest friends.

But first, he has to get his gay ass to Florida and confess his undying love for a certain Russian. If things go well, then maybe he won’t even have to face coming out to them on his own.

***

The moment Ilya steps foot in Florida, he’s buzzing.

Honestly, he’s been buzzing since the plane. Or actually, since he got off the phone with Shane and he came out to Ilya and told him that Rose Landry is no longer in the picture.

Well, not romantically, at least. Apparently they’re still friends. Which is fine—Ilya insists it’s fine—as long as they’re not better friends than Ilya and Shane are. He certainly hopes not.

Or maybe Ilya’s been buzzing the entire time he’s known Shane, really—eagerly anticipating the day when he’s finally allowed to let even a sliver of the affection he feels for Shane out in the open.

That’s what this weekend offers, in Ilya’s eyes. It’s a beautiful excuse to spend time with Shane in the light of day and have nobody question it because it’s done under the guise of team camaraderie.

If they have drinks by the bar, no one will care because they’re teammates for the weekend. That’s just what teammates do.

If they hang out by the pool and Shane laughs at his antics, no one will care because it’ll help their teamwork on the ice.

If he stares a little too longingly at Shane, so what? He’s just expressing respect and admiration for his temporary captain.

And that’s exactly what they do the day before the game, their schedules being entirely free to just hang out.

It’s the afternoon, and Ilya’s sitting by the bar waiting for Shane—his quips about whatever outfit his new stylist put him in, and his teasing about Shane being Ilya’s captain for the weekend all at the ready.

But when Shane finally arrives, every chirp Ilya had in his head dies on his tongue. Shane looks fucking incredible. And it’s not just the clothes. There’s an air of confidence around him that Ilya doesn’t think he’s ever seen before. Especially not off the ice.

There’s something mesmerizing about the way Shane is carrying himself that completely captivates Ilya.

It’s a good thing he’s had a lot of practice with self-control because nothing is sexier to him than a confident Shane Hollander. Shy and polite Shane Hollander is already sexy enough as it is. In an endearing way. But add confidence to the mix and it’s a deadly combination.

Ilya wonders if Shane feels that same pull, because he sits right next to Ilya immediately. They chat for a bit about everything and nothing, the same way they always do on the phone. Except now Ilya has free rein to stare at Shane’s freckles all he wants without his view being nerfed by the shitty image quality of a video call.

It’s so much fun, just getting to talk to Shane freely like this. It’s still a world away from what he actually wants to have with Shane, but he’s content with it for now.

Shane does regrettably have to leave eventually, to make the rounds and mingle as team captain. And Ilya finds himself wanting to come with—to cling to his side just so he can spend as much time with Shane as possible before the universe inevitably yanks this perfect opportunity of a weekend away.

But he resists. Lets Shane do his thing while he watches from the sidelines, in awe of how much lighter Shane seems as he glides through the room. He can’t quite explain it, but Shane looks like a giant weight has been lifted off his shoulders.

He suspects it has something to do with Shane accepting his sexuality. It obviously wasn’t the only reason Shane always looked so rigid and controlled on the outside. But Ilya imagines it must be a huge load off his back, being able to embrace a part of himself like that. And also being open about it to two of his friends—at least, as far as Ilya knows.

Whatever it is, the ease with which Shane carries himself across the room looks really good on him. 

All in all, it’s a gorgeous fucking day. But it all takes a turn for the worse very quickly as Ilya finds out more about what else could have possibly been causing the pep in Shane’s step.

***

Ilya takes it all back. Fuck Florida. Stupid bar. Stupid pool. Stupid ocean breeze. Stupid sunset by the beach. 

His day was going swimmingly until he decided to split off from the group of athletes hanging out by the bar to go find Shane, whom he assumed went out for some air. As confident as this new Shane is, he figured he probably still needed moments to himself, especially after some heavy socializing.

The sun has begun to set, and Ilya thinks the view is almost romantic. So much so that it might even get him to say something crazy, having to stare into Shane’s beautiful brown eyes glow with the light of the sunset as he listens to waves lightly crash onto the shore.

Like how he’s in love with Shane. How he’s been in love with him, since he stupidly let him walk out of that Vegas penthouse suite almost three years ago now. Maybe even before that. No, definitely before that. Maybe even since they met.

Or how their friendship is simultaneously the best thing that’s ever happened to Ilya, but is also slowly killing him inside because he wants so much more.

There are a lot of things he wants to say to Shane. He hadn’t exactly planned to say any of it this weekend, but something about just being in Shane’s vicinity, and being on the precipice of what he actually wants, has him thinking that maybe he will.

He thinks it over as his eyes scan the shore. He’s known that he’s in love with Shane for years now. He just didn’t let himself feel it until he lost Shane. But then he got him back—in a platonic way, but still. And now he’s just fallen more in love with Shane, if that’s even possible.

He doesn’t know if Shane feels the same way, considering how adamant he was about making sure Ilya didn’t have any ulterior motives when they first started talking again. But Ilya still finds himself wanting to tell him anyway.

Because honestly, at this point, he loves Shane so fucking much that he feels like it’s spilling out of him—just constantly seeping through his skin as it’s become too much for him to keep from overflowing from his body.

All the external hindrances remain too, but Ilya remembers what Svetlana told him. I just wish you could let yourself want things sometimes, you know? Fuck your family. Fuck Russia. Fuck whatever anyone else has to say. What do you want?

And he wants Shane. He always has. He still thinks the world won’t make it easy for them, but fuck. It’s gotta be worth a shot, right?

He spots Shane in this moment and his adrenaline starts pumping. Shane looks so fucking ethereal in this light that Ilya has to catch his breath.

Yeah, it’s definitely worth a fucking shot.

“Found you,” he says once he’s reached Shane.

“You were looking for me?” Shane teases. Ilya’s heart is practically beating out of his chest.

“Maybe,” he admits as he sits down next to Shane on the sand, ready to risk it all. But something stops him dead in his tracks before he can.

Shane’s shirt is unbuttoned, naturally, because they’re at the beach. And it blowing in the wind reveals something that was safely concealed earlier when he was all buttoned up.

A fucking hickey, just below his collarbone. Just hidden enough that it wouldn’t show if he was wearing a shirt like normal.

Any declarations of love are put on pause because Ilya sees red.

Shane just came out to him not too long ago. Shane said he and Rose weren’t together anymore. Because they weren’t compatible in that way.

So then this must mean… He was with another man?

No, he can’t have been. Shane is careful. Shane wouldn’t do anything reckless. And letting a man leave a mark on him is pretty reckless. He wonders if there are any more marks concealed beneath the rest of his clothes… Fuck.

Ilya’s brain to mouth filter normally works better than this, but the flare of jealousy renders it completely useless in this moment. The words are spilling out of him before he can even think twice about any of it.

“I thought you and Rose Landry were not…” He starts, gesturing at the mark on Shane’s skin with a nod. He can’t stop looking at it. It’s driving him insane.

Shane follows his eyeline and immediately pulls his shirt over the mark once he realizes.

“Oh. Yeah, no. We’re not…”

“So that is…?” Ilya asks, hoping none of his unwarranted rage is seeping through his voice.

“Just some guy. It doesn’t matter.” Shane waves his hand dismissively.

Except it does matter. It absolutely fucking matters. Because this is it—Ilya’s worst fears have materialized right in front of his eyes.

“Doesn’t matter? Shane, are you crazy?” Ilya says in a slightly raised voice, startling Shane.

“What?”

“Who is this guy? Is he safe? What if he outs you?” Ilya would feel bad at the sudden onslaught of questions if his mind wasn’t going a mile a minute with about a hundred more.

Thankfully, the first questions that came spilling out of him can easily be explained away as friendly concern. Of course he would be worried and would want to know who this guy is to make sure he’s trustworthy. They’re friends. He wouldn’t want Shane to get outed.

But simmering just beneath that genuine concern is searing hot rage at the thought of someone else getting to touch his Shane. Of someone else getting to have Shane in the way that he used to, in the way that he never stopped wanting, and in the way that he’s always distantly hoped he can have again.

He has no right to feel this rage; believe him, he knows. But it’s there anyway. 

“Ilya, calm down. He’s safe. I promise.”

“How do you know? Is it another player?” Ilya asks, and the thought makes his blood boil even more.

Another player would make sense. It would be the safest option. Just like Ilya, they would have the same secret and would have no reason to out Shane. The second Ilya finds out who this motherfucker is, his gloves are coming off the next time he sees him on the ice.

“No, it’s not.”

Oh. Nevermind, then. His gloves can stay on. But he’s definitely still on the warpath and will just have to fight this guy off the ice, in that case.

“Then who the fuck is it?” He asks, painfully aware that he’s teetering very close to unreasonable interrogation territory.

He takes a breath to steady himself, the furrow in Shane’s brow letting him know that he needs to calm down before he says something he regrets.

***

“Then who the fuck is it?” Ilya asks, the venom in his voice unmistakable.

Shane hasn’t heard Ilya talk to him like this in a long time. It’s giving him nasty flashbacks to Sochi and Vegas, and the kind of hostility he hasn’t associated with Ilya in years.

None of your fucking business, Shane almost wants to say. But he remembers that they’re friends, and Ilya’s probably just coming from a place of concern, not of anger or judgement. He tells himself that Ilya getting worked up over this isn’t the same thing as him lashing out at Shane all those years ago.

The Ilya of back then was purposely being cruel to push Shane away. He didn’t know it at the time, but he knows it now that he knows Ilya better.

But the Ilya of right now isn’t even angry at Shane. He’s probably just anxious on his behalf. Because they’re friends, and Ilya’s concerned for his wellbeing. Right.

And to think Shane came into this weekend wanting to have an entirely different conversation. Instead, they’re talking about this.

It’s not like he planned on hiding his little era of exploration from Ilya necessarily. He would’ve told him at some point. He just had more pressing things he wanted to discuss first. You know, like how much he loves Ilya and wants to be with him.

But it looks like that’s getting tabled for now, as he prioritizes placating his unusually very distraught friend.

“He’s no one. Just some guy I met at a bar.” Which is true. The mark was left by that guy Shane made out with on the dance floor the last time he went there, so he can’t tell you his name even if he tried. Louis is really the only one that he remembers.

“A bar?!” Ilya exclaims. Shane is taken aback by Ilya’s increasing distress over this whole thing.

He’s grateful for the concern, really. But surely this is an overreaction, right? People have casual sex all the time. Sure, there’s an added layer of caution that he has to take because he’s closeted. And a little famous. But still.

For a second, Shane thinks he sees a flicker of something that looks suspiciously like jealousy flash across Ilya’s face. That would make a lot of sense, actually. If that’s the reason why Ilya’s reacting this way.

But Shane famously decided to stop trying to read into things like that in Vegas three years ago. Since then, he has stopped making his own assumptions about other people’s feelings so as not to get hurt. That’s dangerous territory. So he’s not gonna do that now.

Plus, they’re so much better at communicating openly than they were back then. So if Ilya does feel any jealousy from this, surely he’ll tell Shane, right?

So he puts a pin in that thought and decides to just focus on letting Ilya know that he’s safe to assuage his worries.

“Ilya, please calm down.” Shane pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a deep breath before explaining. He tries to go for reassuring, but his confusion and frustration are probably still bleeding through.

“It’s safe, I promise. It’s a super exclusive bar. Rose took me. She and Miles have been going there for years. It’s invite only, the staff even sign NDAs, and most of the people who go there have the same secret as me. I swear I’m okay.”

He studies Ilya’s face for a moment, trying to see if any of his explanations have managed to placate him. “No one’s getting outed, okay? Everything’s fine.”

Ilya still looks visibly upset, though. His jaw ticks and Shane thinks, Yeah, my stupid little confession might have to wait a while longer.

***

Of course this whole thing is Rose Landry’s idea. Just as Ilya’s started to let go of his resentment towards her for all the things she got to do with Shane that he never could, she pulls this shit.

Why she would take his Shane to some perfect super secret bar filled with closeted famous people is beyond him. 

Well, actually, he kind of gets it. She finds out her hot boyfriend is gay and repressed, and consequently now single. Of course she would take him to a safe space where he can explore his sexuality. That’s actually, objectively, a pretty nice thing to do.

And it looks like it has helped Shane, judging by the way he’s been carrying himself this weekend.

God, Ilya can’t even hate Rose Landry in peace because it sounds like she’s actually been a really fucking good friend to Shane.

But he has to direct all this anger somewhere. And he doesn’t know who Shane slept with, so he can’t direct it there. And there’s no way he’s gonna be angry at Shane, simply because he can’t.

So, sorry Rose. Ilya will have to settle for hating you from a distance while also begrudgingly respecting you for taking care of Shane and making sure he feels safe.

Ilya takes a deep breath, forcing himself to look away from the now covered mark on Shane’s skin. He almost wants to tear Shane’s shirt away, have the mark stare back at him so he can keep being reminded of what he lost years ago. Maybe the shock of the pain will finally wake him up from this fucking nightmare.

“I do not trust this. How many times have you been to this bar?”

“I don’t know… Like three times, maybe? Four?”

Fuck. Ilya thinks he’s going to lose it. He’s still relieved that at least some of his outrage can be masqueraded as concern for his friend’s privacy and safety. But now that Shane’s assured him that it’s safe, it’s mostly just jealousy.

Three times. Shane has gone to that bar at least three times. Potentially gone home with three different men. Ilya feels bile rise in his throat but swallows it back down because he knows he has no right to be angry. He is anyway.

Again, he knows he couldn’t have expected Shane to stay single or celibate until he got his shit together. But it still fucking hurts.

His mind drifts back to the Rose of it all. That was already really fucking painful. No matter how briefly, she got to have Shane in a way that Ilya never could—out in the open. Unashamed.

That was a different kind of pain. But this—knowing Shane has been with other men in secret in the same way as him…

It almost hurts more.

Because what Shane had with Rose, that could never be Ilya... right? He could never have Shane in that way, can he? And that’s not his fault. It’s just a fact of the world they live in. So it hurts, but in a way that’s outside of his control.

But what Shane had with these other men… It could so easily have been him. Hell, it used to be him. It still could’ve been him, if he hadn’t fucked it up in Vegas all those years ago.

So yeah, this one’s entirely his fault.

Plus, as painful as it was to see Rose get to have Shane in a way Ilya never might, there was never a real future there. Because Shane can’t love her in that way. Ilya didn’t know that at the time, but he knows it now. And it’s done a lot to soothe the bitterness he feels whenever he thinks about Shane and Rose.

But this? Shane being with another man? Someone whom Shane might actually want in a real way?

Yup, this is definitely way fucking worse. 

Maybe if Ilya wasn’t such a coward, Shane wouldn’t have had to go to some stupid bar to hook up with a stranger in the first place. Three strangers, actually.

Fuck. Ilya’s definitely losing it. 

He can’t stop thinking about these other men getting to put their grubby hands on Shane’s skin. Do they even know how fucking lucky they are? Ilya doesn’t know who they are but he’s sure they aren’t worthy of the privilege. No one fucking is. Not even him. Especially not him, actually.

Did Shane let them kiss him? Was Shane on his knees just as eagerly for them as he was for Ilya? Did Shane gaze up at them with that look in his eyes that always made Ilya want to devour him? Did they treat him right, worship his body in the way that he deserves? Anything short of utter devotion is simply not enough.

Did Shane let them fuck him?

Shit. Fuck all of this. 

“Ilya? Are you okay?”

Shane’s concerned voice shakes him out of his reverie. He doesn’t know how long he’s been staring angrily into the water, a clump of sand trapped in his tightly clenched fist.

He’s probably freaking Shane out. But his mind is going into overdrive. He needs to get out of here before he says something he regrets and ruins their friendship over his stupid, unwarranted jealousy.

He clears his throat and releases the sand from his vice-like grip. If only he can let go of his anger and jealousy as easily. Instead, he just pushes it all back down. He feels like throwing up.

“Yeah, sorry. Just… tired. I should, uhh—I should probably go. You know, rest up for the game tomorrow?”

It’s a flimsy excuse and he knows it. They’re not really needed until the afternoon, so Shane has graciously allowed an exception to his early bed time on nights before a game and they made plans to continue watching Yellowjackets in person this time.

“Oh,” Shane responds. He almost sounds disappointed. “I thought we were gonna watch our show for a little bit, but that’s okay. You should rest if you’re tired.”

The confused little pout on his face is so stupidly cute that it almost has Ilya taking it all back. He was also looking forward to this. He thought seeing Shane’s reactions in the flesh rather than through the phone would be nice.

He thought maybe he could even fall asleep next to the real thing this time, feeling Shane’s soft little snores directly on his skin instead of hearing them through a tinny phone speaker.

But every time he looks at Shane, he feels that stupid hickey staring back at him even beneath the clothes and it makes his blood boil. He probably won’t be very good company right now. He knows he has a tendency to lash out when he’s emotionally distressed, and he doesn’t want to put that on Shane. 

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah, fine. See you tomorrow, Shane.” He tries for a smile, but he’s sure it comes out strained.

One thing has become abundantly clear—Ilya Rozanov cannot handle being just friends with Shane Hollander. And the sooner he can do something about it, the better.

***

Shane stays frozen on the beach for a little while after Ilya leaves. He doesn’t know what to do with himself after that conversation.

He had a whole fucking plan. Nothing extravagant, but he had already given Ilya his room number earlier, ahead of their little TV show binge. He wasn’t planning on telling him tonight since it might make things awkward at the game tomorrow if things don’t go well. But he was thinking Ilya can come over after the game too, and they can talk about it then.

Instead, he had to have his stupid shirt open, forgetting that the hickey was even there in the first place because of how unremarkable it was to him. And now here they are. Ilya just stormed off after acting strangely about the prospect of Shane hooking up with strangers.

The hopeful part of his brain still thinks Ilya definitely seemed jealous. But the cautious part of his brain that so deeply internalized Vegas all those years ago insists that he shouldn’t jump to conclusions.

Should he text Ilya? Or should he give him some space to cool off and wait for him to talk when he’s ready?

Should he go over to Ilya’s room and demand an explanation? Fuck, he doesn’t even have Ilya’s room number because they already settled on going to his.

He goes back to his own room in a daze, still unsure of how to make sense of anything.

They were having such a nice day too, and Shane’s confidence to confess grew every time he caught Ilya looking at him from across the room.

Now, there’s nothing new per se about them finding each other’s gaze like that. It always happens whenever they’re in close proximity. There’s always just an inexplicable draw there that neither of them have ever been able to resist.

But there was something so tender about the way Ilya looked at him all day that even Shane’s cautious mind couldn’t help the warmth that enveloped him whenever their eyes met. It wasn’t like the heated glances they usually exchanged on the ice. Or the teasing looks they shared when they were competing.

It was something much softer. Something that Shane really only sees on his phone screen right before Ilya falls asleep and all his usual masks are down. Or back then, when they used to sleep together and they had little pockets of warmth before Ilya inevitably walked out the door like he always did. There would always be a split second where Ilya looked at Shane like he wanted more too, before boarding the windows back up.

To see that same look on Ilya quite freely now is disarming, to say the least. But it had the little seedling of hope in Shane’s chest sprouting all day. Only to get trampled on by their tense conversation at the beach.

He ruminates alone in his room, dinner time coming and going without him even noticing. He doesn’t know how long he’s been lost in his thoughts.

He only gets pulled back into the real world by a knock on his door. Huh. Who could that be? He didn’t order any room service. And he distinctly remembers putting the do not disturb sign on his door handle so it can’t be hotel staff.

Well, there’s only one other person who knows his room number. So he shoots up out of bed and all but runs to the door.

***

So. Ilya Rozanov just realized that he absolutely cannot handle being just friends with Shane Hollander. And the sooner he can do something about it, the better.

Well, it turns out sooner means that same fucking night, because Ilya can’t fucking take it anymore.

He paces around his hotel room like a mad man. When Shane first came out to him, he thought he would just have to keep bracing himself for impact and preparing himself to see Shane with someone else. Because after the whole Rose debacle, he figured that it was inevitable.

But now, after seeing tangible proof that Shane has been with other people… Ilya doesn’t know if he can do all that, actually.

He can’t bear the thought of other people getting to have Shane. He just can’t. And as he burns holes through the hotel room carpet with his furious pacing, he snaps. He starts thinking…

This is fucking ridiculous. He’s Ilya fucking Rozanov. When he wants something, he fucking goes and gets it.

He moved across the ocean to play hockey as a fucking teenager. He was the first fucking draft pick, his rookie year. He led his team to the fucking Stanley cup with the C on his chest not long after that. When he was told that the car he wanted wasn’t available in the US, he had them fucking ship it from Europe, for fuck’s sake.

When a boy with beautiful freckles came up to him back in 2008, he spent the next year or so taking every opportunity to get even a little bit closer to him, before deciding to create an opportunity for himself by suggesting that joint campaign where they finally hooked up.

And when he inevitably lost said boy after treating him poorly, he worked on himself until he was in a place where he could communicate openly. And he asked to be his friend, so he can still have him in his life in whatever way he can.

Sure, it took him some time before he was able to let himself want something real and go after it in the same way that he did with everything else in his life. 

Back then, the idea of wanting something real with Shane seemed even scarier than wanting to cross the ocean to play hockey. But he’s past that now. Not fully, but enough. Remember his talk with Svetlana? He’s grown a lot since then. The doubts might still linger, but he at least knows he’s allowed to want real things and go after them too.

To be in the NHL. To win a Stanley cup. To be MVP. To fuck Shane Hollander. But also, to be Shane Hollander’s friend. To have a real connection with him that transcends just the physical.

These are all things that he wanted at some point in his life. And he got all of those things. Because he fucking went for them.

Now, he wants nothing more than to be Shane Hollander’s in every way that matters, and for Shane to be his in return.

So why is he throwing a tantrum on the beach and then pacing in his hotel room like an idiot, instead of being an adult and simply asking for what he wants?

Sure, whether or not Shane wants the same things is entirely up to him. Just like with them hooking up or with them becoming friends, all Ilya can do is go after what he wants and hope that Shane wants it too.

But Ilya is still allowed to ask. So why the fuck isn’t he doing that yet?

Well, there are a million reasons, really. Most of them external. You already know the fucking drill. Russia. His family. The league. Their careers. The media. The public. He has internal hang ups too, like the lingering doubt he feels about whether or not he’s even deserving of Shane’s love.

All daunting enough to have held him back for this long.

But once again, Svetlana’s voice echoes in his ear. Is being together in secret really that much worse than being miserable apart? At least then you can deal with it together, you know? At least you both know how you feel, instead of you just shouldering this all on your own.

The realization hits him. Not abruptly, but in a way that feels like all the disjointed pieces in his head are finally falling into place.

Their lives are not simple in the slightest. Their relationship, if they choose to be in one, would not be simple in the slightest. As much as Ilya loves Shane, he can’t will away all those external hindrances solely with the power of that love.

But… does he even have to? Or like Sveta said, can he and Shane just accept their circumstances and choose to be with each other in spite of it all, and then just figure out the rest together?

You know what, that sounds like a fucking plan. Not a very detailed or well thought out one, but a plan nonetheless.

Ilya checks the time, and realizes that Shane might be downstairs having dinner with the rest of the guys. So he goes there first before trying to knock on Shane’s door.

They tell him that they haven’t seen Shane all night. So Ilya orders some food to go for both of them in case Shane hasn’t eaten yet and goes straight to Shane’s door with a bag of food in hand and his heart on his sleeve.

***

“Ilya? What are you doing here? I thought you wanted to rest before the game tomorrow.”

“Is fine, I’m feeling better.” Ilya holds up a bag of what Shane presumes is food and asks, “Can I come in?”

Shane lets him through and closes the door behind them as Ilya starts setting their food out on the desk. He’s a little startled at the sudden intrusion. But it’s Ilya, so it’s not like he’s annoyed. That man is always welcome to disturb him.

“I got us some stuff from the hotel restaurant in case you haven’t had dinner yet.” Shane is about to say something regarding Ilya having questionable food choices, but Ilya continues before he can interject. “Ah, ah. Do not worry. I got things that are bird diet approved.”

Shane looks at the burger Ilya just set down on the desk and then back at him. Ilya clarifies, “Burger is for me, obviously. Just because I help you follow your bird diet does not mean I also have to eat like a bird, yes?”

Shane chuckles, his heart fluttering at Ilya’s consideration for his preferences as he brings out the salmon for Shane. He mutters a shy thanks, hoping Ilya can’t see the blush on his face in the dim lights of this hotel room.

Ilya smiles warmly at him—none of the tension he had on the beach earlier present on his face any longer. A wave of relief hits Shane, and they proceed to eat in comfortable silence for a while.

But as relieved as Shane is that they’re hanging out and Ilya seems to be treating him normally again, he still needs answers.

“So… You wanna tell me what’s going on?” He gently pries once they’re almost done with their food.

And Ilya, as avoidant as he used to be in the past, does not seem to hesitate even a little bit as he puts what little is left of his burger down to answer.

“I was jealous.”

Holy shit.

Shane is stunned. He can’t believe that the hopeful part of his brain was right all along. Maybe he can unpin all those thoughts he had earlier than he thought.

Does this mean… Yes, this must mean that Ilya feels the same way and wants the same things as him, right? Why else would he be jealous that Shane slept with someone else?

The little sprout of hope in his chest blooms.

***

“I was jealous.” Ilya just comes right out and says it, prepared to lay all his cards out on the table now.

“You were?”

“Yes. I saw stupid mark below your neck and immediately wanted to punch whoever gave it to you.”

Ilya studies Shane’s face for a moment to gauge his reaction. He doesn’t look like he expected this turn of events, but he doesn’t look unhappy about it either. So Ilya continues.

“And I was jealous because…” He takes a deep breath, reminds himself that he is allowed to want things whether or not he can believe he deserves them, and just goes for it.

“I am in love with you, Shane.”

He hears Shane’s breath hitch at the admission. The moment the words leave his mouth, it’s like time fucking stops. He’s really doing this, then. He’s finally letting eight years’ worth of bottled up emotions out in the open.

It’s as freeing as it is terrifying. And now that the floodgates have been opened, everything he’s ever held close to his chest just comes spilling out of him.

“I love you. I have for a long time. I just never let myself feel it before, because I was scared. But when you walked away that night in Vegas and I thought that I had lost you for good… I realized that nothing is fucking scarier than not having you in my life.” Ilya shudders at the memory of how miserable he was for so long after Vegas, before he mustered up the courage to talk to Shane again. 

“But I could not give you what you deserved, malysh,” Ilya continues, the Russian term of endearment slipping out during his moment of vulnerability. “I still don’t know if I can. But I also can’t help myself from wanting you anyway, so.”

“You… You want me?” Shane asks earnestly, his big doe eyes shining like he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing. Ilya wants to eat him whole. “You’re in love with me?”

“Yes, Shane,” Ilya confirms with a fond chuckle. “I always have been. I was not planning on telling you so soon, because somehow our friendship has made it even scarier. Because now I know what your face looks like when you fall asleep. I know what your favorite cheat meal is, not that you ever let yourself have it. I can tell whether or not you would like a movie based on just the summary. I… I feel like I know you now, and you know me in a way that no one ever has before. And I have been terrified of losing that by asking for more. Like I would be asking for too much then. But… the thought of you going to that bar and being with someone else, it—it makes me sick.”

Ilya takes a brief moment to steady himself after just the reminder of Shane with other people makes him want to throw up again. He continues once the anger dissipates. 

“So I am here. Asking for what I want. Even though I know I probably don’t deserve it—”

“Don’t deserve it? Oh Ilya, why do you think that?”

It’s Ilya’s turn to be shocked now, because Shane reaches towards him and wipes the stray tear off Ilya’s cheek that he didn’t even notice was falling.

“I do not deserve your love. I barely think I deserve your friendship half the time.”

“What? Why?”

“I am a mess, Shane. You know how my life is. You know how my family is. You know how Russia is. And you know how I am—I am an asshole. You know all this.”

“You’re right, I do know all of that.” Ilya’s heart almost drops to his stomach but Shane continues before he can spiral. “Is any of that supposed to make me want you any less?”

And Ilya can’t help the rest of the tears that start falling now. He feels a mix of relief and disbelief. Did he hear that right? Can Shane really want him like he wants Shane?

Without missing a beat, Shane gets up from his seat so he can sit on Ilya’s lap and hold him. This makes the tears flow even more, but Ilya just lets himself be held. He hasn’t had Shane in his arms in years, and it’s overwhelming in the best way.

“In case it wasn’t clear, I fucking love you too, Ilya,” Shane says, pulling back from the hug a little bit, so he can hold Ilya’s face in his hands and look into his eyes as he talks. “I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. You say you're an asshole, and... I mean, I guess that's true," Shane quips, making them both chuckle.

"But beneath that, you're kind," Shane continues. "You're so kind, Ilya. And I know that you care more than you let on. Otherwise, you wouldn't stay on the phone with me at 3AM when I'm anxious about something and can't sleep. You wouldn't know half the things you tell me about your teammates' lives; but you do, because you listen to them and you're a good captain. You wouldn't keep taking care of your family even though they treat you like shit."

Shane's words wrap around Ilya like a warm blanket, soothing the self-loathing that he's spent all his life battling, and will probably keep spending the rest of his life battling.

Shane keeps going, seemingly determined to let Ilya know just how loved he is. "I know you tend to push people away, and that you have a hard time believing that you deserve to be loved sometimes, but… I’m still here after all these years, aren’t I? And I feel like the more I get to know you, the more I love you. Every part of you. Doesn’t that count for something?”

The tears keep coming, but Shane wipes them away before they even have the chance to traverse the short distance of Ilya’s face. Shane leans in halfway, as if giving Ilya the chance to turn away if he wants to—as if he ever would.

So Ilya surges in and kisses Shane. For the first time in three fucking years, his lips have finally found their way back home.

It’s exhilarating, but also tender. It’s charged with electricity, as well as fondness. It has the hunger and passion of people who have been holding back for far too long, but also the gentleness of finally getting back to where you belong.

It’s everything that Ilya has been missing all these years. He has no idea how he’s survived this long without tasting Shane on his tongue. 

They break away after a while and Ilya tucks his head into Shane’s neck, memorizing his scent and the way his arms feel around him in case he ever fucking loses him again. Not that he ever will, if he has anything to say about it.

But he’s not the only one who has a say, unfortunately. His mind drifts back to all the things that held him back from doing this much sooner in the first place. Sure, they’ve established that they love each other now. But it’s not like they just get to have a happily ever after from here. So he pulls back a little so he can tell Shane as much.

“Shane, I—Fuck. I love you so fucking much. But…”

“But? What the fuck do you mean, but?” Shane responds with an angry little pout and Ilya wants to kiss it off him immediately. But he continues his thought first.

“I just… I cannot give you what you deserve right now. I can’t… can’t be like Rose, you know? I can’t hold your hand in public. Cannot tell the world—even if I want to, so all these ugly men in super secret bars will know to stay away from you.”

Shane snorts, and Ilya continues after the brief moment of levity.

“And I don’t know when I will be able to, or if I ever even will. My father is still sick, as you know. I have to be able to go back to Russia if I need to, and I just… I cannot give you everything, Shane. I want to, I just—”

“Ilya, hey.” Shane takes his face in his hands again when he tries to look away and caresses his cheek like it’s the most precious thing he’s ever had in his grasp. “I don’t need everything, Ilya. I just need you.”

Ilya melts. He’s spent all this time thinking that he doesn’t deserve to be with Shane, especially not until he can clear all these hurdles and give him everything. But it turns out that he’s enough as he is.

It’s an unfamiliar sensation to him, being told that he’s enough. Being unconditionally accepted as he is—no ifs, ands, or buts. 

He’s never been enough for his father, whose disappointment persists despite all his achievements. He’s never been enough for his brother, whose vitriol never dissipates no matter how thoroughly he wrings Ilya’s pockets dry. Hell, he wasn’t even enough to keep his mother alive.

And Shane knows him more than anyone else—the good and the bad. He’s seen Ilya at his worst. He’s been on the receiving end of Ilya’s cruelty, back when he used it as a shield to push people away so they couldn’t hurt him. It couldn’t have been a pleasant sight.

So to have Shane tell him that he loves him? That none of the things Ilya thinks make him awful actually make Shane want him any less?

Ilya thinks it’s nothing short of a fucking miracle.

“I don’t need you to have the future figured out,” Shane continues. “I mean, I don’t have that figured out either. I don’t know what the fuck to do, or what’ll happen if people find out. So how about we… don’t think about that yet. Just think about right now. What do you want?”

“I want you, Shane. I want to be with you,” Ilya answers with no hesitation. Because you don’t say no to a miracle.

“Good,” Shane responds with a wet chuckle. “So do I. We can just figure out the rest together, okay?”

Ilya searches Shane’s eyes, and what he sees in them is a promise. It’s swimming in uncertainty about their future, but it’s steadfast in its conviction nonetheless.

There are so many things that are outside of their control. So many things that can go wrong. But the resolve in Shane’s eyes makes Ilya think that they’re gonna weather it just fine, as long as they do it together.

“Okay,” he says, nodding furiously. “Okay. We will figure it out together.”

Shane smiles and seals their promise with a kiss. Ilya feels like he can do anything with Shane by his side.

“Ew. You taste like burger grease,” Shane says with a giggle when he pulls away, startling a laugh out of Ilya. Shane’s nose scrunches up as he pokes his tongue out in exaggerated disgust.

God, Ilya loves this man so fucking much.

“And you taste like fish, but you don’t hear me complaining,” Ilya quips back.

Shane scoffs. “At least salmon is good for you!”

“Mm, you know what else is good for you?” Ilya asks with a coy smile before diving back in, gripping Shane’s thighs in the process so he can stand up and carry him to the bed.

More giggles escape Shane as he is deposited onto the mattress. Ilya climbs on top of him and studies his face for a moment, committing the sight to memory the way he wishes he did the last time they were together like this.

Before he can finish cataloguing every single freckle on Shane’s skin, Shane pulls him down for another kiss—one that neither of them can stop smiling into.

Ilya’s so fucking happy right now that he thinks he might be dreaming. But the sensation of Shane’s lips on his is lighting up every single fucking nerve ending on his body. There’s no way he can feel this much unless it’s real.

He pinches Shane’s arm just to make sure anyway.

“Ow. What the hell was that for?”

“Just making sure this is real,” Ilya says as he gently traces his finger across Shane’s freckles, unable to help what he’s sure is a lovesick look on his face despite his needling.

“You’re supposed to pinch yourself, asshole.”

“I know. But I did not want to hurt myself. So I pinch you instead,” Ilya teases.

“I hate you.” Shane looks annoyed, or at least tries to. But the slight uptick of his lips is giving his true feelings away.

“No, you don’t,” Ilya answers confidently.

Shane sighs. “No, I don’t.”

Ilya kisses him again, because he can’t get enough. He doesn’t think he ever will. He feels like he’s on fire.

Fuck. This really is all real. How the fuck did Ilya get so lucky?

***

Kisses get hungrier and clothes get shed as they make up for all the lost time they spent not devouring each other whole.

Shane completely loses himself in the feeling of getting to have Ilya again. God, he’s fucking missed this.

As much fun as he’s had this past month, nothing compares to the way Ilya makes him feel.

Good sex is good sex regardless—Shane knows this now. But every single touch just feels amplified when it’s coming from the person he’s spent the last eight fucking years being in love with, whether he knew it at the time or not.

It also helps that Ilya just knows his way around every crevice of his body. Almost like he has a fucking map in his head that tells him where to touch and how.

God, it’s like they’re fucking made for each other.

They finish with each other’s names on their tongues and I love you’s whispered like a prayer. Ilya stays plastered on top of Shane, refusing to let go. And Shane wouldn’t have it any other way.

They get cleaned up eventually, and settle under the covers. Shane’s head finds its home on Ilya’s chest, Ilya’s hands in his hair, their legs tangled. Like this, Shane can hear the steady sound of Ilya’s heartbeat and it grounds him to this moment. He can feel every point of contact between them, and the lines where he ends and Ilya begins get blurry once again.

Shane has never felt more satiated in his life, in every sense of the word.

They stay quietly wrapped up in each other for a while, until Ilya breaks the silence.

“You know, I never did apologize,” he says as he runs his fingers through Shane’s hair. Shane has been in such a good headspace since Ilya knocked on his door that he has no idea what Ilya could possibly be apologizing for.

“Huh? For what?”

“For that day in Vegas years ago. And Sochi. And the months of silence in between.”

“O-oh. Why are you bringing this up now?”

The sentiment catches Shane off guard. He’s not exactly keen to relive those days, considering how deeply hurt he was at the time. But he’s long forgiven Ilya for it. Especially since he’s gained a deeper understanding of why Ilya pushes people away like that, now that they’re friends.

They’ve never really talked about Vegas per se, but they’ve spent many nights talking about Ilya’s family, what his life was like in Russia, and all the things that have shaped him as a person. So Shane understands, and has never really held any of it against him.

“Because I was cruel to you. And you did not deserve it. I’m sorry.” Ilya’s grip on Shane tightens, as if he wants to put any pieces that may have been broken by his indiscretion back together.

“And I want you to know that I will never treat you like that again,” he continues. “I mean, I cannot promise that we won’t fight. You are annoying sometimes, so it’s only natural.”

“Hey,” Shane protests with a giggle, lightly slapping Ilya’s arm.

“But even if we do fight, or maybe hurt each other sometimes, I will not be cruel on purpose to shut you out or push you away. I promise, Shane.”

Even though Shane wasn’t expecting an apology for what happened all those years ago, it’s definitely still nice to hear.

“Thank you, Ilya. I forgave you a long time ago, but I appreciate it. I promise I’ll always talk to you too, even if you piss me off. Especially if you piss me off, even.”

Ilya chuckles. “Look at us, huh? Just a couple of emotionally mature boyfriends.”

“Boyfriends?” Shane teases.

“I mean, yes, right? Probably? Shane, please say yes. I will die if you tell me this is casual after all of that.”

Shane giggles at Ilya’s theatrics. Them being casual already killed Shane once. There’s no way in hell he’s going back to that ever again. “Nothing about this is casual. You’re stuck with me now.”

“Thank fuck. Okay then, boyfriends.”

Shane nods against Ilya’s chest. “Boyfriends.”

Boyfriends. Shane really likes the sound of that. He feels his cheeks warm at the thought and hopes Ilya can’t tell from where it’s resting on his chest.

“That was really sweet, boyfriend,” Shane teases. “When did you get so emotionally mature anyway?”

Ilya groans. “I learned my lesson in Vegas. Trust me. My year fucking sucked after that, and I never want to go through that again. Open communication is a price I am willing to pay to never fucking lose you again.”

Ilya’s grip around Shane tightens even more, if that’s even possible.

“Also, I had a really good friend by my side,” he adds. “He talks a lot, but it made me feel like I could talk to him too. Now I tell him everything. It is a very nice friendship.”

“Oh yeah?” Shane’s cheeks hurt from smiling. Is there such a thing as being too happy? 

“Yes. He is very kind. And super hot. He has a weak backhand, though.”

Shane scoffs. “A weak backhand?”

“Yes, very weak. Is a mystery how he won two cups with that backhand. Maybe I can give him tips in return for him teaching me how to be vulnerable.”

“You’re an asshole.”

They rib each other for a while, and Shane thinks he can really get used to this. Honestly, he already has. Every text and facetime call they’ve had over the last two years, every stolen moment they’ve had since before that—he feels like it’s all led him to this moment.

Where Ilya is finally his in every way that matters.

***

“Are you as terrified as I am?” Ilya asks after another stretch of comfortable silence.

“Probably, yeah. But hey, at least now we can be scared together, right?”

“Hm. That is also what Sveta told me.” Ilya has mentioned her in passing from time to time. “You would like her, I think. She is a big fan of yours. And she talked some sense into me when I was spending that entire year after Vegas sulking about you. I mean, she didn’t know it was you, but. I don’t know if I would’ve had the courage to reach out to you again if she did not help me.”

“I should thank her, then,” Shane responds with a chuckle. “And I would love to meet her someday. I mean, if that’s something that you would want?”

Ilya thinks about it for a moment—his two favorite people in the world becoming friends—and it fills him with great joy. He would not be the person that he is today without them. So to have them love each other as much as he loves them—okay, maybe not quite as much, Sveta already thinks Shane is hot, let’s not push it—would make Ilya very happy.

He can already picture it—the three of them huddled around his living room watching a hockey game, those two yapping incessantly about statistics and strategy. Ilya would pretend to be bored and annoyed by it, but he would secretly love how obsessed they both are with hockey.

Svetlana would be happy that he finally allowed himself to want something real, and that he found someone he willingly brought down his walls for. And Shane would be happy to know that he’s had someone as incredible as Svetlana as his support system his entire life.

“Hm. I would love that, Shane. You two would be a nightmare together. It will be great.”

“I would love for you to meet Rose, too. I don’t think I would’ve figured us out without her, either.”

Ilya’s stupid jealousy rears its ugly head at the mention of Rose, but he tries not to let it ruin the moment too much.

Still, he can’t help the scoff that he lets out. Oops.

“Ilya, are you still jealous of Rose?” Shane chides.

“I am not jealous,” he says, defensively. Yeah, he’s not really fooling anyone with that.

“Ilya, I’m gay. You know this already.”

“Yeah? Not so gay you can’t fuck Rose Landry.”

“Oh my god, Ilya.” Shane flicks him on the chest. “You’ll love her, I promise. Just give her a chance? For me?”

Shane lifts his head and looks straight at him with those big doe eyes that Ilya can never say no to. Yeah, Ilya’s never winning a fucking argument ever again.

“Ugh, fine. You are a hypnotist, Hollander. This is not fair.”

Shane pouts at the mention of his last name. “That’s Shane to you, asshole.”

Getting the big doe eyes and the pout back-to-back is like a one-two punch. Ilya is rendered powerless. He is down. Incapacitated. Shane can ask him to do anything at this point and he would say yes.

Ilya groans. “Fuck. You are irresistible, you know that?” Shane just giggles in his face. “You are evil.”

Ilya is exactly where he wants to be.

***

“What does malysh mean, by the way?” Shane asks, drawing random shapes on Ilya’s chest. They’ve been glued to each other all night, talking about everything and nothing. He remembers Ilya saying it earlier, and him filing it away in his head to ask about later.

“Ah, you have been holding on to that all night, have you, malysh?” Ilya teases as he pulls Shane’s face up so he can kiss him on the cheek. “Moya lyubov?” He adds as he plants another loud kiss on Shane’s other cheek. “Moy pomidor?” Another kiss on his forehead. “Dorogoy?” A kiss on the tip of his nose. “Kotenok?” Infinite more kisses in quick succession.

“Wait, slow down! I can’t remember all of that.” Shane descends into a fit of giggles as he keeps getting attacked by kisses all over his face and Russian nicknames he can’t keep up with.

“You are a fast learner, sweetheart. I am sure you will be fluent in no time,” Ilya says as he finally lets up on the kisses with a final one on Shane’s lips.

Shane makes a mental note to buy some books to help him learn Russian. He wants to know Ilya as much as he can, and to understand him as well as he possibly can. And what better way to do that than to learn his mother tongue? To be able to speak the language that all his deepest thoughts are in?

Shane has some studying to do.

***

When Ilya wakes the next day, he’s so overcome with emotion he could fucking cry. All the events of the previous night are still fresh in his mind, and Shane is sleeping soundly on his chest—hair all over the place, mouth slightly open, ungracefully drooling on Ilya’s chest.

It’s the most beautiful sight he’s ever woken up to.

Early morning light is gently trickling through the curtains, granting him the most perfect view of Shane’s freckles, illuminated right in front of his eyes.

He can’t believe he finally gets to have this. What the fuck has he done in his life to deserve to have Shane Hollander in his arms the moment he wakes up? Maybe he saved children from a burning orphanage in his past life or some shit, and now the universe is rewarding him. Because surely, nothing short of a heroic act could have gotten him this.

Or maybe he’s still dreaming. Maybe he should get to pinching again.

But then Shane stirs, and looks up at Ilya the moment his eyes open. The ensuing smile on his face makes Ilya’s breath catch. Ilya’s woken up to a similar view on his screen many a time over the course of their friendship. But nothing beats the real fucking thing.

“Good morning, solnyshko,” Ilya says with a kiss on Shane’s forehead.

“Good morning,” Shane responds as he stretches. “You’ll have to teach me that one, too. Add it to the list.”

“I will teach you all of them, zaychik. We have so much time.”

“Mm. We have all the time in the world.”

And they do.

***

They have a slow morning, neither of them really wanting to get up and leave this tiny bubble that they’ve made for themselves in Shane’s hotel room. But they have things to do—teammates to meet for lunch, ice to skate, hockey pucks to hit.

Ilya sneaks out of Shane’s room at some point, all his stealth for naught as they later find out that no other players are on Shane’s floor. Captain privileges, perhaps. Or just a coincidence. Maybe the universe wanted them to have some peace and quiet for once.

When they finally get on the ice, Ilya’s having the time of his life.

He’s always wondered how it would feel to play alongside Shane for once, instead of against him. And while he’s always loved competing with Shane, there’s something electrifying about being in his corner on the ice—especially after the night they just had, where they pretty much agreed to be in each other’s corners, just in life in general.

He wants to pass and Shane is instantly exactly right where he needs him to be. Like he’s reading Ilya’s mind. Like they’re connected cosmically, on every level, and hockey is just an extension of that.

He briefly entertains the idea of it being like this all the time. Shane Hollander and Ilya Rozanov on the same team? Now wouldn’t that be the dream.

They score a beautiful goal, and their eyes meet the moment the puck hits the net. Shane is looking at him with so much devotion that he can’t help himself from skating towards him, being pulled into Shane’s orbit like he always is.

Shane begins to raise his arm as if expecting a simple fist bump. Ilya all but crashes into him instead, planting a loud, obnoxious kiss onto his helmet.

The gesture is more than either of them expected, but less than what Ilya would do if he didn’t have to think about all the eyes on them. A beautiful goal like that from Ilya’s perfect pass deserves a kiss on the mouth, if you ask him. Well, anything Shane does deserves a kiss, if he’s being honest. But Ilya digresses.

Alas, with the hockey world being the way that it is, this is all that he can allow himself on the ice. At least for now.

A brief moment of indulgence. Nothing more.

A tiny fraction of all the love he feels for Shane slipping through, via a harmless little kiss on the helmet. A gesture befitting of teammates, carrying meaning that only the two of them know.

It’ll have to do for now. But who knows? Maybe one day, he can indulge for real. For more than just a moment. 

Maybe one day, he can tell everyone that Shane Hollander is his and his alone. Shout it from the rooftops like he’s always wanted. Show the world what they mean to each other beyond that one helmet kiss on the ice.

But for now, they know what they mean to each other. Soon, the people closest to them will know what they mean to each other. And that is more than enough.

Chapter End Notes

i always wanted to end here bc tampa shane is my favorite shane. in the show it’s v evident how a giant weight was lifted off his shoulders post-rose. he’s visibly lighter, even just in the way he carries himself. him in their hotel room convo is my favorite shane EVER. he’s straightforward and refuses to take ilya’s denial of what they have. but he’s still empathetic. he spoke his truth, didn’t let ilya hide behind his usual walls, but still listened when ilya finally talked. it’s the perfect balance of not taking any bullshit but also not losing your compassion in the process. love it sfm.

i also wanted to approach them coming into their realizations separately. with shane doing so after exploring. being brave, even though he’s also scared of losing ilya’s friendship if he doesn’t feel the same way. bc he thinks that ilya deserves to know how loved he is. they’ve been friends for years atp. shane knows how ilya has self-loathing tendencies. so once he’s sure about his feelings, he’s determined to tell ilya even if it doesn’t end up being mutual bc he deserves to hear it. he’s hopeful that their bond is strong enough to survive either way.

with ilya, he’s been sure for a while that he’s in love with shane. but he’s been holding back bc of all The Reasons you already know. so he wasn’t planning on confessing anytime soon. but getting to spend time with shane out in the open really has him in his yearning bag so when he’s walking on the beach and the sun’s setting he’s like… ykw fuck it. maybe i will tell him. like an aha moment of sorts, bc his feelings are fucking pouring out of him atp with how strong they are and how long he’s been keeping them in.

i also hope i was able to convey how ilya’s very much a go getter. his hockey is a testament to that. as well as his earlier pursuit of shane, when he just wanted to hook up. like jerking off in the shower after seeing your crush get hard? organizing an entire joint campaign just to see him? that is go getter behavior. BUT when it comes to deeper things like friendship or love, he has more trouble going after what he wants bc it’s more vulnerable. plus his insecurities make him believe he doesn’t deserve these things. so that doubt is still there. but if you remember his talk with sveta, the idea that he’s allowed to want something real very much left a mark on him, helping him go through with telling shane how he feels despite his belief that he doesn’t deserve him. and that’s what his entire pep talk in his hotel room was meant to be.

oh and can you tell i love rose and shane’s friendship so much :’) the song true blue by boygenius popped into my head while writing their scene in this chapter. and it feels good to be known so well. i can’t hide from you like i hide from myself. yay friendship!

semi regular hockey research i had to do this time was check the selection process for all stars. i gathered that the league selects some and then there’s fan voting too? i get that it’s not exactly the end all be all when it comes to who’s actually good like it also depends on your position and team and stuff and it’s not that serious but i just wanted to use it to make rose tease shane about having a competence kink ok let’s just pretend lmao

and if you’ve read anything i’ve written you know that when i write heavy conversations there will always be a sprinkle of humor bc that’s just how i cope personally lmao so in the middle of a serious talk ilya will just be like. ugh those ugly men in that bar you went to. and shane will be like ew you taste like burgers. just to provide some levity before diving back in to the seriousness lol

another thing that was important for me was shane getting an apology. like i’ve said before i truly think it’s beautiful that it’s not something shane was even looking for like he just forgave ilya no problem. he’s much kinder than i am lmao cause me personally? i woulda liked at least a lil sorry for sochi and vegas before diving back in hahaha

also the helmet kiss was always going to be the final scene for this. i’ve had that in my head since i started writing. that scene has me in a chokehold.

and lastly, in my head i think (and i hope) that i’ve given them both (but esp ilya) enough room to grow in their communication skills in previous chapters that it would make sense for them to have this argument but be able to resolve it within the same night. bc they’re good at communicating now! and they’ve had two years of practice, being friends and all. so i hope that works <3

anywayyy. thank you for enduring my end note yapping one last time for this fic. writing it has been such a lovely experience for me. i will keep reading and replying to every comment i see (even if it sometimes takes me months lol sorry for the stray notifs for those). see ya!